


A Zoe & Not A Rose

by oldcroneofawitch



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Reality, F/M, Mystery, Not Actually A Self-Insert, Romance, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:34:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26618290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldcroneofawitch/pseuds/oldcroneofawitch
Summary: Zoe Peyton has an insatiable thirst for stories. Only the most extraordinary and fantastic stories will satisfy her. Yet, those close to her will go to any cost to keep her from stories that spark her imagination and creativity. There is a secret surrounding her. If she doesn’t uncover the truth surrounding her family, it could come at a terrible cost – and it’s already cost her, her world.Season 1 re-write, sort of. NOT a self-insert. May be Doctor/OC – not sure yet. Rated M to be safe.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 17





	1. The Call

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my lovely readers.
> 
> First things first, you should know this is my FIRST fanfiction.
> 
> I've been haunting this site for several years now, being an unashamed fanfiction junkie, but I'd never ventured into actually writing fanfiction until recently. In fact, I created this account specifically to post this story.
> 
> I just couldn't get this idea out of my head and felt like I was going to go crazy unless I did something about it.
> 
> Aw, the sweet torture of waking up with a story scene in your head and feeling the pressing need to write it down.
> 
> The result is what you see in front of you. I've written several chapters so far...
> 
> And I thought to wait until I'd completed it, but having no one to read my story and give me feedback for so long...
> 
> I just couldn't hold back any longer!
> 
> Before you get started reading, you should know...
> 
> \- This is NOT a self-insert, but it is an OC wakes up in Doctor Who reality.
> 
> \- This is a Season 1 re-write, sort of. Well, you'll see.
> 
> \- This story is rated M for language and adult themes.
> 
> \- This may become a Doctor/OC story, but I'm not sure yet. Depends on my OC.
> 
> \- I'm cross-posting this story onto Fanfiction.net. 
> 
> Please no flames. Helpful and constructive feedback is welcome.
> 
> I have no beta, so any typos or grammatical errors are all mine. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this. I had so much fun writing it. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own no rights to Doctor Who and make no profit from writing this. I'm just playing with the characters like they're action figures and I'm a kid with a god complex.
> 
> Any original characters are my creation.

_Edmund couldn_ _'t take it anymore. He seized her - his sweet, clever and irresistible Sonya - by the waist and yanked her delicious soft curves against his hard…_

"What are you reading?"

Zoe Peyton shut the cover of her trashy romance novel so fast, a sharp slap echoed in the near-empty break room. A couple familiar faces around the watercolor looked her way at the intrusive sound, but they quickly lost interest when they noted nothing worth gossiping over. Or, so they believed.

Seeing it was her best-friend, Madison, all sass in a petite package, who had spoken to her and was striding toward her table, Zoe strategically shifted her hands just-so over the book's front cover. "Nothing of interest," she said in a deliberately neutral tone, though the telling blush dusting her cheeks belied her words.

Never one to miss anything, Madison raised a curved eyebrow and gave her best, _Don_ _'t even try to bullshit me, Zoe,_ look _._ "Uh huh," she said, as she took the empty seat across from Zoe, "and that wasn't a shirtless man wearing a naked woman like a towel I saw on the cover."

"Yeah. Okay," Zoe said with an exaggerated sigh, "so maybe I picked up a romance paperback at the gas station this morning. Sue me." She flashed the paperback's erotic cover at her friend before hiding it in her backpack. Though she couldn't quite hide her disappointed frown. _And it was just getting to the good part, too._

"Girl, you know, and I know, August doesn't want you reading that stuff."

"You mean he doesn't want me reading anything remotely interesting," Zoe corrected, shooting a mild glare at her friend. "All he ever let me read growing up was literary fiction and classics. That's all too slice-of-life for me. Give me adventure. Give me romance! Give me something magical, supernatural, and unbelievable!" At this point, she was waving her arms around the air in rapid circles as if to emphasize her desperate need for something _other_ and _different_ from the ordinary. A literary reflection on the average person's day-to-day life just wasn't going to cut it for her reading material.

Madison rolled her liquid-brown eyes and grabbed one of Zoe's free-wheeling arms. "Calm down before you give yourself an apoplexy."

Zoe lowered her arms with a displeased huff and pouted — something she would later deny if asked. She does _not_ pout.

"Have you ever thought maybe he had a good reason not to let you read books like _Harry Potter_ or watch _Merlin_?"

She gasped in mock horror. "But then I would have missed out on wizards and magic!"

And boy would she have missed out on some amazing stories if it weren't for meeting Madison all those years ago.

After her mother died, social services determined her uncle, August, as her only remaining living family. And that's how six-year-old Zoe found herself on his porch step all those years ago, clutching her gold dragon plushy (Mr. Knows-a-lot) and holding hands with a stern, cranky social worker (secretly dubbed _The Kraken_ ) by her side.

Thankfully, August sent The Kraken away and immediately went about making little Zoe feel at home. He couldn't quite hide his grief over his sister's death, but he soon became the father she never had.

Unfortunately for Zoe, her father figure has very strict ideas about what he considers appropriate entertainment. Sometimes, living with August made her feel like Harry Potter must have growing up with the Dursleys. A reference she would never have known if not for the gift that was Madison.

Because like Harry, any time something impossible or fantastical was even mentioned — like the word magic — August would lecture her for hours! He'd tell her in no certain terms that magic, aliens, the paranormal — you name it — weren't real. He claimed he didn't want her head filled with clouds, fairy dust, or monsters.

He'd been horrified when he discovered her 2nd-grade teacher read a short story about a friendly monster named Gruff who lived under the bed in class. Poor Ms. Francis was in tears by the end of her 30-minute meeting with him the next day. Needless to say, Zoe was home schooled after that.

Her saving grace was when she met Madison — also home schooled — at a play date a couple of years later, one arranged by the local neighborhood for home schooling families. All in the name of helping home schooled kids avoid the would-be fate of becoming social pariahs as adults.

Madison — and her parents — thought August took the whole, 'let's keep things focused on reality' too far. So, Madison would help Zoe read Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings under August's nose. And on weekends, they'd binge watch movies like Narnia all weekend — movies that'd make August furious if he ever found out. Keyword: if.

Zoe's convinced the only reason he hasn't found out about those weekends of outright teenage rebellion is because Madison's parents would cover for them. God bless them.

 _And really,_ Zoe thought, a _ll those books and movies would be nothing if August discovered her original stories._ She'd been writing stories in secret since she was in 10th grade. If August would be upset over her reading a fantasy book, what would happen if he knew she wrote fantasy and supernatural fiction for fun?

"Yeah, but…" Madison said, the hesitation in her voice grabbing Zoe's immediate attention. It made her sit up straight in her chair, foreboding settling in her stomach like a weight. To others it'd seem like an overreaction, but that's because they don't know her best friend like she does. Madison doesn't do reserved and hesitant — she's bold and blunt and says what's on her mind. Her motto is _screw it —_ if other people don't like what she has to say, that's not her problem.

"Mads, what is it?"

"Zoe, have you ever thought about the crazy stuff that happened to you — and me by proxy — growing up?"

"What kind of crazy stuff?" Zoe asked, taking a sip from her water bottle and glancing at the clock. She had 10 minutes left before her break was officially over.

"Like the Boggart incident."

Zoe's hazel-green eyes snapped back to Madison. Her thick eyebrows scrunching together in slight bewilderment. "Sometimes, but that was just us messing around. We let our imagination get away from us."

Madison tapped the table, her manicured nails sounding out a light rhythm. A rare tic that only comes out when she's really nervous or uncomfortable. "Did we though?"

"Did we what? Imagine it?" Zoe asked, checking she understood Madison's question. At her noncommittal shrug, she thought back on the night in question. She'd been sleeping over at Madison's that weekend. They were 7th graders who had eaten too much junk food and had just had a Harry Potter movie marathon. Somehow, they'd convinced themselves there was a Boggart trapped in Madison's bedroom closet. She couldn't remember all the details only that she'd been scared out of her mind, and they both had agreed to move their sleeping arrangements into the living room. The boggart was never brought up again, and she had forgotten all about it. Now, she's wondering if she somehow suppressed the memory. "What else could it have been? Boggarts aren't real."

Even so, her friend didn't look convinced, her dark eyes troubled. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Do you remember when we read the _Twilight_ series?"

"Hey, we swore never to talk about that."

"Zoe, I'm serious!" Madison snapped, causing Zoe's eyebrows to fly up in alarm. "You said and I quote, 'Wouldn't it be amazing if werewolves like Jacob were real?"

Zoe scoffed, shaking off her discomfort. "Give me a break. I was a freshman in high school."

"Yeah, but remember shortly after, August and my parents surprised us with that camping trip. The one on the beach. Do you remember what happened?"

Zoe stared at Madison, taking in her patent _you-better-be-reading-between-the-lines_ bitch face. This conversation was beyond bizarre, but this was also her best friend, so…

She started fiddling with the loose strand of her _Always_ t-shirt's hem, as she tried to think back on that weekend. It was a few years ago, sometime in October or November. The leaves on the trees were changing to vibrant shades of red and orange, and August had forced her to wear that ugly thick, and lumpy sweater usually reserved for embarrassing Christmas parties.

Then it hit her — they'd met a couple of boys on the beach around their age. They had dark long hair tied back in ponytails and beautiful brown skin. There had been an irresistible air of mystery around them, and both Madison and Zoe had spent most of their time that weekend hanging out with them, talking about nothing, really, until they said goodbye.

"Are you talking about Zack and Kai?" Zoe asked, pulling their names from the recess of her memory.

Madison nodded. "Didn't you notice how they never got cold? Or, how strong they were?"

"Wait, what?" Zoe couldn't help herself. She barked out a laugh and had to quickly smother her mirth with her hand. "You think they were…" She couldn't say it. She wouldn't. There's no way those guys were werewolves.

"Yes!" Madison said.

"No, that's crazy."

"Zoe, how can you be so oblivious?"

"Did you drink too much coffee this morning? What's going on in that head of yours right now?"

Madison slapped a hand down on the table and pushed her chair out. The legs scraped loudly against the cheap linoleum floor, alerting everyone left in the break room that she was done. With this conversation. And with her. "Forget it. I'm sorry I said anything."

"No, don't be like that," Zoe said, jumping out of her chair to follow her friend out. She snatched her backpack up and dropped her empty water bottle in the recycling bin on her way out the door. A glance at the clock told her she had to get back to work anyways.

Just perfect. Exactly what she wanted to do after having a confusing — and frankly alarming — discussion with her best friend. Because writing letters to paranoid attorneys about the ins and outs of mortgage loans is her all-time favorite thing to do in life.

When Zoe caught up with Madison, she was already settling down in her assigned cubicle to get back to the daily grind. They were both writers and had an endless pile of deadlines to meet before they could even think about clocking out. She knew she needed to get back to her own stack of doom, but she needed to know what crazed thoughts were swirling around in her friend's head. Because that conversation seemed to come out of nowhere, and the things she'd brought up happened ages ago. And that left her with the uncomfortable question: How long exactly has her best friend been thinking these things and not saying anything?

She tapped Madison's shoulder and was rewarded with her friend's trademark sass service. _"_ I'm sorry, Madison is not available right now. Leave a message at the beep. _Beep."_

Zoe barely resisted rolling her eyes. "Com'on, Mads. What's bothering you?"

Madison just shrugged, looking uncomfortable again. A look that did not fit her. At all. "Just…be careful what you read and watch from now on, okay? That includes what you write." Then she turned her back on Zoe, gathering papers in front of her. A clear signal the conversation was over.

Madison never brought it up again, but the strangeness of that conversation stuck with Zoe for months after…

Until Zoe discovered _Doctor Who_ on Netflix, and she forgot all about her friend's cryptic warning against getting lost in the fantastic and paranormal worlds created by others.

* * *

That's how three weeks later on a Friday night after her first _Doctor Who_ episode, Zoe found herself laid out on her ugly, plaid couch, an uncomfortable thing she'd bought at a garage sale. It was easy on her wallet, but not easy on her back. But she hardly noticed the lumpy cushions underneath her, not when a Dalek had just ruined the Doctor's long-awaited reunion with Rose after they'd been so cruelly separated.

Zoe had watched with bated breath as The Doctor dived in front of Rose, taking a hit from the Dalek's laser beam.

"No!" she cried out, jumping to her feet in protest, her aching back muscles a distant thought.

 _This_ was the excruciating part of any good story. The unexpected twists and turns were like pain and pleasure in sex.

She knew it was fiction, just a story a writer came up with, but The Doctor and Rose had become real people to her, even if only in her mind.

Zoe had cried so hard when Rose had become trapped in the parallel universe, but it was the Doctor and Rose's goodbye on the beach that had sent waves of heartbreak through her. _He didn_ _'t even get to say I love you, too._ It was too much emotional upheaval for her in one sitting, so she told herself she'd take a break from the show to come to terms with it…

But, she couldn't _not_ watch it. She tried, but the show had called to her like nothing else ever had.

She hadn't even told Madison about her obsession with the show, not since her cryptic warning to be careful. Anytime she brought in a book to work that even hinted at magic or the supernatural, Madison would pin her with a disapproving look, but she wouldn't say anything. She's stubborn like that.

Which is why she started bringing in the classics to read during her work breaks like Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice_ , nothing supernatural or magical happening there.

Don't get her wrong. _Pride and Prejudice_ was good. Just not awe-inspiring and jaw-dropping entertaining like…Dragon Age Origins, the RPG video game. Now there's a great story. Definitely more interesting than a romance in the regency era.

Ah, the things she sacrifices in the name of friendship.

At least, Madison wasn't avoiding her anymore. And what was up with that anyways? Her best friend — the reason she knew all about the magical wonders of entertainment in the first place (God bless her) — had switched sides and now agrees with August's mandate on what warrants safe and wholesome entertainment.

Good thing she's got her own place now. Her house, her rules, as they say. Admittedly, it'd only been a month so far since she moved out of his house and into her very own apartment, but she could watch and read whatever she wanted without worrying about August (or Madison) breathing down her neck. Even better, she could write her original stories in the open without fear of discovery — something she wouldn't dream of doing when she was still living in August's house.

She may be 23 years old, but August was downright scary when he got into lecture mode. And he never did stop seeing her as that little girl on his front porch, crushing her Mr. Knows-a-lot dragon plushy to her chest. Just trying not to cry in front of the mean Kraken lady. Not even getting her Bachelor's degree in English early could change his perception of her. It was maddening in some ways. In others, it was nice, not that she would tell him that.

No, her new place wasn't much to look at — it was just a one-bedroom apartment with bare, white walls and sparse furniture here and there, mostly collected from various garage sales all over the neighborhood — but it was all hers.

Speaking of August…

Her cell phone started buzzing on the cushion beside her with his caller-ID lighting up the screen. She'd put him in her contacts jokingly as Gandalf. All his "No, Zoe, that is not acceptable reading material" sounded an awful lot like "You shall not pass." A joke he would not find amusing whatsoever if he ever found out. He _must never_ find out.

Her fingers hesitated over the phone, eyes glued to the television screen. The episode credits for "The Stolen Earth" had just started to roll, and the TARDIS theme music was playing softly in the background. She could answer his call, but…Netflix was asking her if she wanted to continue, and she really wanted to press play and worry about whatever August wanted tomorrow.

The phone stopped ringing, and the decision was taken off her hands. She let out a small sigh of relief, but almost immediately, her eyes snapped wide open with shock when she saw the time.

Standing out in glowing white text on her phone's display, 1:00 AM stared back at her. She wasn't sure how a phone could look so accusing, but somehow this one managed it. Or, maybe that was just her guilty conscious affecting her perception. She should be in bed asleep like the responsible adult she pretended to be, but she just couldn't bring herself to get up and start her bedtime routine.

Her eyes were drooping a little bit, now that the show was paused and her brain could start sending her a ton of melatonin to convince her sleeping was the best idea ever.

Yet, the show called to her in a way she had never felt before, not even with _Harry Potter_. And she'd read those books so many times, she wouldn't be surprised if the words were printed on the back of her eyelids.

Her phone started to ring again, the powerful vibration pushing the phone up against her leg as if begging for her attention. The light display showed it was August again. Calling after midnight. Twice now. _Something must be very wrong_.

No sooner had the thought left her, she was accepting his call and bringing the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Zoe!" His usually melodic voice sounded strained with worry, and she immediately tensed, clutching the phone tightly to her ear like a lifeline.

"August, what is it? Why are you calling so late?"

"Something's happened. Something terrible." He sounded breathless like he'd been out for a run. Something hard for her to imagine her gentle and somewhat portly father-figure doing at all, let alone in the middle of the night. "I need you to be honest with me, dear."

"What? Why?"

"There's no time to explain," August said cutting across her twenty questions. A sound of something crashing and a fierce shout in the background had her jumping to her feet, tension riddling her body. This was nothing like when she jumped up in fear for the Doctor when he'd been shot by the Dalek. In the back of her mind, she knew death wasn't really a possibility — he's the hero of the show. He's safe until the show is canceled. Just look at Supernatural! No, real-life wasn't like a show, and she didn't harbor any delusions that if August was in actual danger, he could die.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice matching the panic in his. "What's happening?"

"No time," he repeated again and grunted from an exertion she couldn't see. "Have you been reading or watching anything you shouldn't?"

Her mind stalled at the question as irritation and disbelief flared to life. Seriously? He's checking up on her entertainment choices, now of all times? She opened her mouth to let loose a practiced half-truth, planning on highlighting the fact she's been reading the classics lately…and completely neglecting her other, in his eyes, less-than-appropriate choices when August's voice cut her off. Again.

"Be honest, dear."

Her mouth dropped open. Could he read her mind or what? It was only the sound of another distant crash and his sharp — and pained — yell into the phone that had her blurting out the truth.

"I may have been watching Doctor Who."

A tense silence fell over the other side of the phone. "August?" When he didn't answer, she practically screamed into the phone. "Dad!" When the silence dragged on, she cried, "Daddy, answer me!"

"I'm here," he said, his voice sounded like he was fading. If she didn't know better, he sounded a lot like he was…dying. Then he chuckled, the sound exhausted and affectionate at once. "If the situation weren't what it was, you would so be grounded, young lady. Adult or no."

"Then I guess you better get over here to lecture me into next year," she said, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. Her knuckles turning white from gripping her phone so hard.

"If only I could, sweetling," he said softly, followed by a long sigh that turned into a hacking cough. "I know you have been frustrated with my rules, but they existed to keep you safe. And now you've discovered the one show I wish you hadn't."

"I-I couldn't not watch it," she said, knowing her excuse was weak. "I tried at first to ignore it, but…"

"It called to you like a siren. Yes, I know."

"You know?"

"There's so much you don't know, Zoe. The rules were there for your protection, to keep you safe."

"But I —"

"Darling, please listen."

Zoe shut her mouth, feeling like she swallowed back acid.

"You must listen to me," he said and then coughed violently into the phone. She listened to his coughs, desperate and choking sounds, and she knew deep down he wasn't sick. He was dying somewhere out of her reach. When his coughs subsided, he sounded hoarse. "It is vital you follow my instructions. You won't understand why, but do as I say."

"Okay," she mumbled, feeling out of depth and numb.

"Promise me."

"I promise," she whispered.

"Watch your _Doctor Who_ and fall asleep to it. Think about the Doctor and his world. Imagine what it would be like to be in his world. Let yourself feel it in your very being."

Despite the circumstances, she felt her brain short-circuit, because there's no way he was telling her what it sounded like he was saying. "You're actually telling me to watch _Doctor Who_?"

"Yes!"

"A sci-fi and supernatural show with aliens and robots and time-traveling?"

"Yes," he said again, though there was a hint of dry amusement in his tone.

"But, what about you? You're hurt, dying even, I can tell! How can you expect me to watch a TV show when you're…" She stopped, unable to say what she believed what was happening to him.

"You must!" he said, his urgency making his voice sounded stronger. If he could, she thought he'd reach through the phone to grab her for emphasis. It didn't escape her notice that he hadn't denied he was dying. "Forget about me, dear. I am old, and you are young, much younger than you realize."

She sat down on the edge of her lumpy couch, feeling like 50-pound weights had dropped into her stomach. "I can't just forget you," she whispered. "I know we never really talked about it, but...you're my dad."

"And you are my daughter," he sighed, a long, hazardous breath that seemed to rattle his lungs, "no matter what anyone says."

Then the phone disconnected, and she was left alone in painful silence that rang in her ears. She felt the phone drop out of her hands, clattering to the floor, then numbness started to settle in. Her mind working hard to shield her from her sudden harsh reality.

Because if what she thinks happened, just happened, that means that's the last time she would ever hear August's voice. Ever hear him…

She stopped that thought in its tracks and raised a shaky hand to push her dark wavy hair out of her face. She felt her heartbreak and sudden aching loneliness try to crawl up her throat in a desperate sob. She forcefully cut it off before a sound could escape her.

She needed to not think for a while. Needed it like she needed air in her lungs. There were too many unknown variables. What happened to him? Why did he call her and not 911? And why, why would he ask her to watch _Doctor Who_ , the epitome of everything he seemed to be against growing up? Why wouldn't he let her go to him?

Her gaze flicked to her TV, desperate for escape from her thoughts. Red light pouring from the screen, as Netflix asked in bright white letters, a gentle reminder of her father's dying wishes, _Are you still watching Doctor Who?_

He was right. She didn't understand. She should be running to him, wherever he is. Calling 911. Anything, but what she actually does do…

Almost mechanically, she settled back onto her cheap couch, grabbing the soft, tan blanket August had given her as a housewarming gift. It didn't smell like him. It didn't even smell like her. It was just a blanket he bought at the store for her and thought she'd like, but suddenly that blanket seemed like her whole world was wrapped up in it. So, she wrapped herself up in it before raising the Roku remote and hitting play.

She couldn't shake how wrong it felt sitting there, getting ready to watch a TV show when her father was most likely dying or already dead. _I promised him_ , she reminded herself forcefully.

But then the show began, and she felt the Doctor gently set aside her worries and fears for Aug-her father one by one with the warble of his sonic screwdriver, the wheeze of his TARDIS, and his confident command to run.

She focused with everything she had in her on the Doctor, who he is, and what he stood for. Pondered over the way the show seemed to resonate with her almost on a molecular level.

Before tonight, she'd get lost in the story and its characters even when she wasn't watching an episode. Her mind had been wrapped up in the Doctor and all the aliens he met — the ones he saved and the ones he didn't. She'd gotten caught daydreaming about the Doctor and his timey-whimey, nonsensical adventures at work a couple times. Something bound to get her in trouble at work deeper than she could climb out of. She'd have to call her job, she realized, let them know she wouldn't be coming in, because…

 _Don_ _'t think about it!_

She forced her attention back on the show, just like Aug-her father asked her to. Something she would have done without being asked if it weren't for the night's grievous circumstances.

She watched as Donna fought with Rose, Martha, and Jack and hoped Rose would get to stay with the Doctor after everything was said and done.

It was as she lay there, absorbing the Doctor's newest confrontation with an army of Daleks that it hit her why the Doctor was so appealing. Adventure and mayhem followed him everywhere, and yet there was order in that chaos. It was enough to make her head spin with all the possibilities.

And it was the possibilities that stirred her gut with a yearning she didn't fully understand. Her need to watch the show reminded her of Stephen King's _the gotta._ The 'I gotta know what happens next or else.' Except it had less to do with a need to know what happens next in the story and more to do with The Doctor himself and the world he lived in.

As early morning light rays began to spill through her window blinds, she began losing the battle with her heavy eyelids. The Doctor had just left Rose on the beach with his human duplicate after watching them kiss. A heart-crushing scene, but she had no more room in her broken heart to feel more, still feeling numb from Aug-her father's call.

Her last thought before sleep finally claimed her was how much she wished she could be a part of the Doctor's world — and that her father would be there with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I watched Doctor Who after Rose fights her way back to her original universe, so if I messed up the order of episodes referenced by Zoe, feel free to let me know.
> 
> As for how realistic it is for her to get through as much of the show's content as she supposedly does...
> 
> Well, let's pretend for this story's sake that all the drama with the Daleks, Rose's return, and her being dropped off with the Doctor's duplicate occurred in a few short episodes.


	2. Rude Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe has a rude awakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, the next part of the story is here. I had a lot of fun writing this one, but it was also a bit challenging. Overall, I'm pleased with how this chapter came out, and I hope you enjoy reading it.
> 
> As a reminder, this has not been betaed, so all typos and grammatical errors or typos are all mine. MINE. I'm possessive like that. (Feel free to point them out, so I can correct them though. I won't bite. Promise.)
> 
> Without further ado, let us welcome to the stage...
> 
> Zoe Peyton!

Upon waking, the first thing Zoe noticed was the pounding headache hammering at her skull. She buried her head into her pillow, hissing as the slight motion sent painful waves rocketing through her head. She rubbed a temple, hoping to ease the pain somewhat, but no such luck. She even felt nauseous and wondered if the egg salad she ate for lunch yesterday had been bad.

Honestly, this was like her hangover from hell all over again. Headaches and nausea like this were the reason she'd swore off alcohol after her 21st birthday. That and because of the super embarrassing stunt she nearly pulled while under the influence. Not only did beer taste like piss, it removed all her inhibitions. She'd started dancing on the tabletops at the local bar and had even started to striptease. Thankfully, Madison had been there to stop her. Now if anyone offers her a drink, it's a quick no thank you. Getting buzzed just wasn't worth losing her ability to think straight.

Cracking open an eyelid, she closed them immediately when the light shining through the pink curtains in the open window hit her full-on.

 _Wait, a second_ , she thought after her thought process finally caught up with what she saw, _Pink curtains?_ She doesn't own curtains, let alone pink ones. If she bought curtains for her apartment, she'd pick light blue or a dark green, not pink.

She opened her eyes again, shielding them from the worst of the light with her hand and sat up straight in her confusion at what she saw. Too fast, she realized. The strange pink bedroom she found herself in seemed to spin. Spots were swimming in her vision.

She closed her eyes and took deep breaths in and out until her vision and nausea settled enough for her to look again.

She squinted and saw pink — everywhere. The walls, the window curtains, and the dresser were different shades of pink. Even the fuzzy blanket pooling in her lap was a light pink, though the material looked worn out and felt somewhat coarse to the touch. Though her tan blanket was there, too, still tucked around her waist underneath the fuzzy one.

Now either she was crazy, or she only thought she fell asleep on her living room couch watching _Doctor Who_ last night. Somehow she doubted that. She pressed her palm against her forehead, as if she could push the headache back, so she could have enough room to think clearly.

Of course, right at that moment, there was a sharp rap on the bedroom door and a woman's sharp, waspish voice calling to her from the other side. "Rose, wake up!" Another hard knock on the door. "Rose, you're going to be late to work."

Zoe groaned and mumbled a curse at the fresh wave of pain caused by the woman's piercing voice and her harsh knocking.

"I heard that," the woman said, her impatience evident even without seeing her face. "Don't come crying to me when you've gone and lost your job at the shop then." Her parting remark only followed by the soft padding of feet moving away from the door.

_Did she call me Rose? And why did her voice sound so much like Jackie Tyler's?_

She pulled the fuzzy pink blanket off, but was careful to take the tan blanket with her, as she stumbled to her feet, noting she was still wearing her clothes from yesterday. Her _You Shall Not Pass_ black tee and dark blue jeans looking a bit crinkled, but passable, considering she wasn't at home to change clothes at the moment. She wasn't wearing any socks or shoes, but that couldn't exactly be helped.

She opened the bedroom door and peeked her head out, peering down the long hall. She stopped short when she spotted the picture frames hanging along the wall. Picture after picture were shots of Jackie and Rose from _Doctor Who_ — both blonde and grinning at the camera. Panic-induced confusion didn't flutter to life in her chest until her gaze settled on the living, breathing Jackie Tyler talking rapidly into her phone.

"That's what I'm saying!" Jackie ranted. "The police visited that young man down the hall from us. Now every time I see him, I think he's gonna pull a knife on me." She stopped when she spotted Zoe hovering in the hallway. "Hang on a sec, Marge. Rose just came out." She pulled the phone away and covered the receiver with her hand. "Finally saw sense, did ya?"

Zoe froze, stared wide-eyed at Jackie for all of 10 seconds before flying backward into the bedroom she'd just exited. Her bare feet scurried across the beige carpet — finally, something not-pink — and stopped in front of the vanity mirror she'd passed earlier.

She stared at her reflection, a relieved breath leaving her. She looked like herself. She still has the same long, dark brown hair and hazel green eyes. She was still Zoe.

She chuckled at herself for even considering the possibility she'd woken up as Rose like some poorly written self-insert fanfiction, and then winced at the way her head threatened to split in half. She needed drugs, and she needed them now. She hoped 'Jackie' or whoever she is has Advil.

She hurried to the bedroom door and stepped out into the hall again, walking straight for Jackie or her convincing lookalike.

Jackie wasn't on her phone anymore, her penciled-in eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Rose, sweetie, are you alright?"

Zoe opened and closed her mouth, unsure what to say. She knew she looked nothing like Rose, so why was Jackie still calling her that? "I'm not Rose. My name is Zoe."

Immediately, Jackie's mouth twisted into a frown. "Well, of course, you're Rose. What are you talking about?"

"No, I'm not," she insisted, hugging her tan blanket to her chest for comfort like she used to hold Mr. Knows-a-lot. "I'm Zoe." She saw Jackie's frown deepen, as her heavily mascaraed eyes took in the not-pink blanket she was holding.

"Sweetie, are you on drugs?"

Of all the things she thought Jackie would say, that wasn't it. "No, of course not!"

She walked over to Zoe and without asking permission put a hand over her forehead. She made a face before pulling back. "You don't feel warm."

"That's because I'm not sick," Zoe said, ignoring the nausea twisting in her gut and the storm cloud of a headache brewing in her head. She stepped out of the woman's reach pointedly. "And my name isn't Rose."

"What are you talking about? Of course you're Rose," Jackie said, gesturing toward her in exasperation. "Who else would you be? And don't talk like that!"

"Talk like what?"

"Like you're American!" Jackie snapped back waspishly. Zoe grimaced. The woman's nasally voice really wasn't doing her head any favors. "What are you trying to do with an American accent? Sound posh? You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are. So we're not rich and don't live in a fancy house, so what?"

"I'm not trying to sound like anything!" Zoe snapped, growing frustrated with the woman in front of her. "I am American. I'm not who you think I am. What I'm not sure about is who you are or why I woke up here."

"You're Rose Tyler. I'm Jackie Tyler, and you're my daughter."

The words hit her like a blow. Suddenly memories of her conversation with August last night poured to the front of her mind. His dying request for her to watch _Doctor Who_ and think about the Doctor and his world as she fell asleep now at the forefront of her thoughts. Is that how she got here? Did he know this would happen? Fresh pain flared across her temples and she wanted to scream out her hurt and confusion, her fears and anger at being told she's someone she's not. She needed to think, and this blasted headache wouldn't let her process what the hell was happening.

Frustrated tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes. "You're wrong," she said, striving to keep her voice even through gritted teeth. "I'm not your daughter, and I don't belong here."

Jackie looked like she'd been struck. "Rose," she said, the word coming out like a plea. "What's going on, sweetie? What is this really about? Did something happen to you?"

Zoe only shook her head, trying not to hear the hurt in the woman's voice. Guilt blossomed in her gut anyways. It wasn't Jackie's fault that she woke up here, but shouldn't a mother know when her daughter has been replaced by someone else? She looks absolutely nothing like Rose.

She paused, as a horrifying thought occurred to her. What if she looks like Rose to everyone but herself?

Zoe turned back to Rose's mom and gestured to her own face. "What do I look like to you?"

"What?" Jackie squawked, seemingly thrown off by the unexpected question.

"What color is my hair? What do you see when you look at me?" Zoe demanded, her tone near desperate.

"You've got brown hair, same as you always have," she sputtered.

For a moment, Zoe felt relief that she looked like herself to others, but it was short-lived. Others may see her as Zoe, but in whatever hell she found herself in, they would still mistake her for Rose.

"But Rose has blonde hair?" she said weakly, pointing at the nearest picture of Rose she could find. There in all her glory was Rose, blonde and smiling softly in the camera. It looked like a high school senior picture.

"No, you don't," Jackie said, sounding extremely confused looking between the photo and her. Whatever was going on, she was seeing what she expected to see. "And why are you talking in third person?"

Zoe shook her head and felt instant regret when sharp pain ricocheted across her skull like a lightning strike. She gasped, unable to help herself due to the pain. Her right hand pressed against her forehead as if she could suppress the pain.

"So you are sick!" Jackie said. She didn't miss how relieved Rose's mom sounded. She supposed she couldn't fault Jackie for trying to find an explanation for what she thought was her daughter's strange behavior.

"Just a headache and some nausea," Zoe admitted. "I woke up with it."

"You didn't go drinking last night, did ya?" Jackie asked, taking her arm to guide her into the small dining room and sitting her down at the table. It was cluttered with fashion magazines, mail, and what she could only assume was Jackie's hairdryer.

"No," she muttered.

Jackie clucked her tongue like she didn't quite believe her. "Here. Just a moment, and I'll get ya fixed up right as rain."

While Zoe leaned forward, using the table to lay her head on her arms, her dark chocolate waves spilled over to cover her face. The hair blocked the light from her eyes, and it eased her headache and helped settle her nausea a bit.

She heard the tell-tale sounds of cabinet doors opening and closing, glasses clinking and the sound of liquid being poured. Then the shuffling feet and a second disapproving cluck of her tongue signaling Jackie's return.

"Oh, you poor thing. Com'on, sit up now."

Zoe sat up as slowly as possible, tucking her disarray hair behind her ears as she did so. It occurred to her then that she still had bedhead, needed to brush her teeth, and use the bathroom. Desperately.

Jackie set a glass filled with green liquid. "Go on and drink that up. It'll fix you in no time. Honestly, I'd say you got what you deserved, drinking last night and all, but…" She opened her mouth to argue, but Jackie waved her hand, cutting her off. "Don't even try to deny it. You wake up, yelling at me, saying mad things about not being my Rose. I'm thinkin' you're still drunk."

She gritted her teeth in annoyance, but took the offered drink with a quiet thank you. She really hoped it would still help ease her nausea and headache, even if it wasn't alcohol-induced. She sipped it tentatively and nearly spat the mixture back out.

"What is that?" she coughed, gagging slightly at the taste.

"A hangover tonic. It's got pickle juice, apple cider vinegar, ginger, and cayenne pepper."

"It's disgusting."

Jackie shrugged and looked unapologetic. "It's effective though. It helps if you plug your nose and chug it."

So that's exactly what Zoe did, though it didn't save her from the gag-worthy aftertaste.

Once the drink was gone, Jackie put on a fake smile. "Now, how about some breakfast? There's some leftover waffles, and I can make some toast. And I expect you'll still be going to work. I mean, the worst of the hangover should be gone by the time you finish eating. Best hurry though, or you will be late. I can't drive you, so you'll have to take the bus or walk."

She hesitated at accepting the offer of food, but her stomach betrayed her with a disquieted rumble. Though it was hard to tell if she was truly hungry or if her stomach was revolting from the hangover tonic from hell.

"Okay," Zoe murmured, but first things first… "Um, where's the bathroom?"

Jackie looked at her like she sprouted a second head.

* * *

After refreshing herself in the bathroom and sitting through an awkward and quiet breakfast with Rose's mom, shooting her strange looks every few seconds, Zoe found the headache was no longer the fierce storm cloud it had been and was now a simple dull ache. Meaning she could think about her situation more clearly.

99% of her was positive this wasn't a dream. You can't experience that distinct level of pain and nausea in a dream, and she's never had dreams that were so vivid and detailed.

So yeah, this was definitely real.

Worst, the woman sitting on the other side, balancing a Cosmopolitan in one hand and spearing her waffle with a fork in the other was Jackie Tyler. The Jackie Tyler from _Doctor Who_. She wished she meant the actress.

For a few moments, she entertained the possibility she was on candid camera and that the woman sitting across from her was really an actress being paid to insist she was her daughter, Rose Tyler. But she had to dismiss it when no one came bursting through the doors to reveal they were actually live on television.

Zoe was one for facing the facts, and though this all seemed impossible, she couldn't deny her situation. Somehow, she fell asleep on her couch while watching _Doctor Who_ , and woke up the next morning in the world of _Doctor Who_ and in Rose Tyler's bed.

And as much as she wished to, she couldn't ignore the fact her father had told her to watch the show, think of the Doctor and his world while she fell asleep. She didn't believe in coincidences. But she doubted this was what he wanted to happen, for her to be forced to be someone she wasn't.

Because no matter what Jackie wants to believe, she isn't really Rose. The pictures on the walls attest to the fact the blonde hair girl, Rose - the girl the Doctor fell in love with - exists in this world. So that begs the question: where is Rose Tyler? Did she wake up this morning in Zoe's sparse one-bedroom apartment back in her world?

She was so deep in thought, considering her crazy, impossible situation, she jumped at the sound of Jackie's voice and nearly knocked over her glass of orange juice in the process.

"I'm sorry what'd you say?" Zoe asked.

A flash of annoyance crossed Jackie's face, but she repeated herself with strained patience. "I said, 'It's okay, you know.' We all say things we don't mean when we're drunk."

"I wasn't drunk," Zoe said exasperation coloring her tone. "I said exactly what I meant to say."

Jackie's face crumpled, giving way to hurt and confusion before transforming into righteous anger. "Is this your way of getting back at me, because I borrowed your clothes the other night? Is that what this is all about? You know that date was important to me. I don't get to go out all the time like you do."

"This isn't anything like that," Zoe said. "I know it's difficult to understand, but I really need you to grasp this. I'm not Rose. I'm Zoe. I woke up this morning in a strange room and don't know how I got here."

"Why are you doing this? This isn't like you. This is a cruel joke, and I won't hear it anymore. You are Rose. You are my daughter. That is final."

_And you are my daughter, no matter what anyone says._

Fresh heartache ripped through her chest as she remembered August's last words to her. She stood and slapped her hands down on the table, aware at the back of her mind she was pulling a Madison, her drama queen of a best friend. The force of her hands rattled the knickknacks and glassware resting on the table.

"No, I'm not," Zoe said fiercely. "I'm my father's daughter, not yours!"

Jackie gasped, her hand flying to her heart as if she'd been delivered a fatal wound. Zoe hardly noticed in her anger and grief. They stared at one another, neither taking the other truly in, as a tense heavy silence fell over the room.

Realizing staying here with Jackie would get her nowhere closer to finding out how she got here or how to get back, her thoughts turned inward to what she should do next.

And then it hit her. If this is a dimension where Rose and Jackie Tyler exist, then the Doctor exists here, too. And if anyone would know what was going on, it would be her favorite Time Lord. And she realized in the same moment she knew exactly where to find him.

"I'm going to work," she said. Without waiting for a reply, her crackling emotions guided her out of the flat. It wasn't until she was standing on the bottom step that reason and logic caught up with her.

Looking out at the unfamiliar London street, she immediately felt like an idiot. For one thing, she was still barefoot, wearing yesterday's clothes and holding her tan blanket, the only things to travel with her. For another, she actually had no idea where Rose Tyler worked, just that she was a shop-girl. She tried to scrounge up her memory, but the best she could come up with is that Rose worked at a department store that started with an H. Reluctantly she turned back around and poked her head inside the house and immediately wished she hadn't.

Jackie was standing frozen in the hall, looking like an abused housewife, with mascara streaks running down the sides of her face.

Where anger and grief had taken residence in her chest, guilt swiftly took its place. Immediately contrite for her behavior, Zoe ran back inside and forced herself to hug Rose's mother. "I'm sorry," she said. "I was only thinking of myself. You didn't deserve that."

And she didn't. Zoe may have lost her father yesterday, but Jackie had lost her daughter and didn't even know it. Somehow, that seemed worst.

She allowed Rose's mom to run her fingers through her dark chocolate locks, as she cried into her shoulder about ungrateful daughters being stupid prats. Zoe pushed through her discomfort about being held by a complete stranger, telling herself she just needed to act the part of loving daughter until the real Rose Tyler could be found, and then she could go home. But the thought of pretending to be someone she wasn't filled with her unease.

"Mom," she forced out, sending a silent apology to her real mother and trying not to think of August.

"Oh, so now that you want something, you're my daughter again?" Jackie asked half playful, half-serious. Zoe could tell she was still hiding her pain from what she'd said earlier, repeatedly, and her guilt increased 10x that she couldn't just give her, her Rose back.

Zoe smiled apologetically. "Where do I work exactly?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how did I do? Please hit review and let me know.
> 
> Applause and happy raving are always welcome. (What can I say? I'm all modesty, and my ego loves a good boost?)
> 
> Flames are not welcome (my poor ego couldn't take it!), but constructive feedback is another story. Critique away as long as it is intended to help.
> 
> On the plus side, I'd love to get to know my readers. So for this chapter, tell me...
> 
> What superpower do you wish you had?
> 
> For me, I wish I had the power to command time.
> 
> I would use it to pause time, shift time forward, or travel backward as needed. Mainly, I'd use it to mentor my younger self into making better decisions. Effectively changing my present reality in the process, hopefully for the better. Crosses fingers.
> 
> Traveling through time to see the world would just be a bonus. I'd be like The Doctor, Doctor Strange, or Dr. Emmet Brown, just without the fancy time machine or time stone. (What is up with time travelers all calling themselves doctors?)


	3. Leap of Faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super pumped about this chapter. I had sooooooo much fun writing it, and I'm excited to see people's reactions to what I have in store for Zoe. The scenes in this chapter are the reason this fic exists at all. They wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it all out. Hopefully, I did the scenes justice.
> 
> Again, this has not been betaed, so all errors are mine. Mine, I tell you. Going forward, let's just assume all future chapters have not been betaed unless I say otherwise.
> 
> Now, read my lovelies, and don't forget to leave a review. :)

Three stressful hours later, Zoe found herself wearing a white t-shirt and simple black apron with the words, Nickie's, and a pink stiletto high heel flitting across the front. Funny, she could have sworn Rose worked at a huge department store, not that Nickie's wasn't just as big.

Her dark hair had a mussed appearance as if she had traveled a great distance, and it wouldn't be far from the truth. It took asking directions from three different people, taking several wrong turns, and traversing a few neglected alleys that screamed gang territory before she finally located Rose's work in downtown London. With an exhausted sigh, Zoe picked a stray leaf out of her hair. Her first time in London and her sightseeing involved dumpsters, vomit, and at one point, the gum scraped off the bottom of someone's shoe. Oh well, at least her headache and nausea were gone.

Thinking she was late, she walked into the building with great reluctance. Within seconds, a flustered man with a toothbrush mustache and a salt and pepper toupee swarmed up to her. His silver name tag told her this was Rose's manager, Robert. "Rose, thank god you're here! Elizabeth called in sick, and no one has been working on the floor. I wasn't expecting to see you until the night shift."

Zoe stopped him there, holding up a hand. "Wait. I thought my shift started at ten this morning." That's what Jackie told her anyway.

"Oh, no," Robert said, confused. "You asked to start working evenings, remember? Something about university classes. You said you wanted to take day classes like everyone else."

"Oh, yeah," Zoe said with a half-laugh, as if only just remembering. "I must be still half-asleep." She smiled at the manager, trying not to show her confusion. In the show, Rose didn't even have her A-levels. What was she doing attending college? She wondered whether Jackie knew about this. Judging by her ignorance of Rose's schedule change, she had a feeling she didn't. But, why would the real Rose want to hide that?

Robert scanned her appearance from head to toe. "You do look like you just woke up, but since you're here, would you be willing to work a double shift today?"

Zoe cringed. A double shift at a job she didn't know anything about. "Alright," she said, despite her reservations. No telling when the Doctor may make his appearance, and she wanted to be here when he arrived. She ignored the doubt wriggling at the back of her mind that he wouldn't come. Or the creeping realization that even if he does come it may be months before he does. _Please come, Doctor. Please don_ _'t make me wait._

Robert's shoulder slumped dramatically in obvious relief, and a reluctant, amused chuckle escaped her. "Oh, thank you! Have I ever told you, you're my favorite employee?"

"Only a thousand times," Zoe joked, hoping that sounded like something the real Rose would say.

"Get clocked in then. I'm going into the back to tally the inventory. Can I trust you to take care of everything up front?"

Zoe glanced around the unfamiliar shop and smiled. "Yeah. Of course."

"Love the American accent by the way. Practicing for a play or something?" Robert asked without waiting for an answer, already moving through the Employees Only door to the backroom. "Almost sounds genuine."

"That's because it is genuine," she muttered, but the manager was already gone, the door swishing in his wake.

* * *

As Zoe soon learned, Nickie's sells anything and everything from shoes to vintage and luxury clothing. Even then, the number of mannequins in the store made it look like good ol' Nickie has a fetish for plastic. There were at least six well-dressed mannequins in every aisle, and that didn't include the ones she'd seen in in the back or the ones she assumed were down in the basement. No wonder the Nestene Consciousness set up a relay device here of all places — a dormant army of mannequins were on standby.

While she waited for the Doctor to appear - she really hoped she wouldn't have to wait months for him to show up. _Please, please show up tonight, Doctor._

Zoe tried to keep a healthy distance from the mannequins, but it proved difficult when she had to pass them every few minutes, walking around the store in an effort to look busy. Any second the Nestene Consciousness could begin transmitting its signal through the relay device and convert the mannequins into living plastic. Autons ordered to kill and use their hands for weapons.

When she wasn't assisting customers, she passed the time pacing, thoughts fighting for dominance between what happened to August and what it meant to wake up and find herself in Rose's shoes. Literally. Her toes were currently squashed unhappily in Rose's one-size-too-small-for-her black work shoes. Even now, folding a wayward Hawaiian shirt and keeping a wary eye on a nearby mannequin wearing a gorgeous red dress as if it would leap at her…plastic lips stretching open to eat her whole…

She shook the image away with a shudder but didn't let the mannequin out of sight.

No. Even now, staring down the life-size doll, she still half-hoped she was dreaming. That this would all be a nightmare, and she'd wake up on her ugly plaid couch with a crick in her neck and terrible back pain. That'd be preferable to this. One appointment with a chiropractor and life would continue as usual. She'd stop by August's and hug him, tell him how much he means to her. She'd call Mads and go to one of those fancy art shows she loves so much. If it meant being back home, she could pretend to enjoy modern…art. She wasn't sure how a toilet seat glued to a trashcan lid could be considered art, but her friend had insisted it was a statement. A statement of what, she could never tell.

While she loved the idea of meeting the Doctor, she couldn't accept the reason behind getting to meet him. Somehow, her appearance in this world had displaced Rose, and that filled her with no end of guilt, even though she has no idea how this all happened in the first place. Jackie didn't even realize her daughter was missing, because she was convinced Zoe was her daughter. She still hadn't wrapped her mind around that little tidbit.

She felt bad for it, but she was placing all her hope in the Doctor on figuring it out. If anyone can solve this mess, it's him. Again the desperate hope he would come today, not later shot through her. _Please come._

Though it was a slow day, people popping in and out once or twice in a three-hour window, the day went by fast with her mind so thoroughly occupied with her predicament. That and the constant paranoia the mannequins would attack her at any moment. By the end of the second shift, she had developed a twitch, jumping at any sign of movement in her peripheral vision. Honestly, it was a good thing Robert had gone home an hour early, leaving her in charge of closing. She didn't want anyone else to be here if — when — they do attack.

"Thank you for shopping with Nickie's," she said tiredly, holding out change from the register to the last customer for the night. Lucky for her, she had worked as a cashier at Barnes and Noble for a year, so it only took a couple of transactions to remember how to work the cash register. Not so lucky for her, she had no idea how to count European currency.

An irritated woman with dark curls and pointed nose glared at the change in her hand as if it offended her. "That's not the right amount. You've got the coins mixed up."

At Zoe's blank look, she muttered something that sounded suspiciously like stupid Yankees and leaned over the cash register, getting into her personal space. She yanked out a couple of coins from the register. "I've got it," she said. "You can put that back."

Not wanting to make a big issue out of it, Zoe just mumbled, "Thanks," and poured the wrong coins back into their designated slots.

"So when did you arrive in London?" the woman asked, not unkindly. "You must not have been here long."

Zoe shrugged and forced a grin. "That obvious, huh?"

"Very," she said, before smiling back and holding out her hand. "I'm Victoria, by the way. You can call me Vicky for short."

She shook the woman's hand. "Nice to meet you, Vicky. I'm…Zoe," she said, after a moment's hesitation. To those who don't know Rose, she wanted to be known as herself.

"But, your name tag says Rose."

Zoe glanced down at her shiny name tag and wrinkled her nose. "Huh. That's weird," she said, and removed the name tag for good measure, placing Rose's name plate face down on the front desk.

Vicky laughed at her expression. "You're an odd one. Hey, if you're new to London, maybe you'd like to hang out with me and my friends this weekend. We could show you the sights and maybe hang at a great bar downtown."

A genuine smile appeared on Zoe's face at the invitation. If she's here for a while yet, making friends might go a long way to helping her feel more like herself. In a way, Vicky reminded of her Mads. It was the way she smiled, a sort of wicked gleam in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say she'd love to, but froze, wide eyes honing in on the movement she sensed toward the front of the store.

Like a scene right out of an indie horror movie, all of the mannequins' heads slowly twisted around until their pale, vacant expressions pointed toward the only two people left in the store.

The sight left her mouth dry, as adrenaline sent a thrill of fear coursing through her. _This is it. This is really happening. Creepy, murderous mannequin dolls moving on their own._

This is like _Annabelle_ , _Chuckie,_ and _Goosebump_ 's Slappy come to life, but so much worst because this was actually happening.It was at this moment, Zoe realized what waking up in the Doctor's world really meant. Aliens, monsters, and robots are real here. It wasn't just going to be mini-adventures tied up in a nice bow. She'd known the mannequins would come to life the moment the Nestene Consciousness sent its signal. She'd been waiting for it, hoping for it even, because it meant the Doctor would be just one step behind. But coming face-to-face with animated mannequins — _Autons. They_ _'re called Autons_ , she reminded herself distantly — was a shock to her system. Any hope she was dreaming was swiftly thrown to the ground and trampled on. Twice.

"Vicky, I know we've just met," Zoe began slowly, keeping a wary eye on the mannequins, "and you don't have any reason to trust me, but I need you to listen to me right now. Make a run for the exit, and whatever you do, don't look back."

"What? Why?" she asked, looking scandalized by the strange request.

Zoe's heart rate spiked when all of the mannequins on the floor stepped off their platforms as one. "There's no time to explain," she shouted, unknowingly echoing August's words to her. "You just need to get out of here!"

"What are you going on about?" Vicky fumed. "And here I thought we could be friends, but you're trying to play a joke on me."

The Autons were walking towards them now. Despite their slow and uncoordinated movement, Zoe knew it was only a matter of time before the Nestene Consciousness transmitted orders for the mannequins to reveal the guns hidden within their hands.

"It's not a joke," she said, desperate for Vicky to believe her, but the woman wasn't paying attention to her anymore. Her gaze was locked on something behind Zoe; her expression morphing from confusion to horror in less than a few seconds.

"Behind you!" Vicky cried, pointing over Zoe's shoulder.

Zoe's hazel eyes widened in dawning horror, as she turned in time to witness a horde of mannequins spilling through the Employees Only door. She cursed herself. How could she be so careless and forget the stored mannequins in the back room? And why, oh why didn't she even consider locking the spare mannequins up somewhere?

She glanced around wildly for a weapon and lunged for the broom tucked in the corner, just in time to beat a mannequin back. She ran out from behind the counter, brandishing the broom like a sword. "Vicky, get behind me!"

She heard Vicky whimper somewhere off to the side, right before she let out a blood-curdling scream that was punctured short by a single gunshot. The abrupt silence that followed rang in Zoe's ears. Too much like the silence after August's call disconnected.

"Vicky," Zoe called out, trying not to read into her lack of response. She jumped out of reach of an approaching Auton, waving the broom around to keep the horde back at a distance, and moved around to the front of the counter. "Vicky!" she cried, stopping short when she saw her could-have-been friend lying face down, curls splayed out across the hardwood floor. An image of Madison lying on the floor, liquid brown eyes open and unseeing shot through her mind, and she forcefully pushed the thought aside.

This wasn't Mads. This was Victoria, and she was dead. Because of her. If Rose had been here, Vicky would have gotten the right amount of change back and would have left without a second glance. Staring at Vicky, she sensed, more than saw, the Autons surround her on all sides, taking advantage of her momentary shock. The same mannequin that shot Vicky was now aiming its hand-gun at her head. Tendrils of smoke still curled from the hand of the Auton that shot her; its plastic fingers pointed down to reveal the barrel hidden within its pale hand.

Zoe yanked her numb gaze away from Vicky's lifeless body to stare down the gun barrel. Her eyes narrowed and mouth tightened in a fierce line. She glared at the mannequin, even as fear coiled in her chest like a tightly wound spring. "You didn't have to kill her," she said. "She wasn’t even supposed to be here!!"

The Auton shot off its firearm in answer, and Zoe barely ducked in time. Abandoning her broom, she kept herself low to the ground, slipping between their legs until she broke free from the horde. Their heads turned as one in her direction, realizing she was no longer amongst them. Zoe imagined the Nestene Consciousness's outraged astonishment and laughed, a slight crazy trill to the sound, as she ran for the very exit she tried to persuade Vicky to escape through earlier. Her legs felt off-kilter from the adrenaline coursing through them.

Zoe collided against the exit door and yanked at the door handles, but the door wouldn't open no matter how hard she pulled. "It's locked!"

She turned around, so her back braced the exit door on the left, feeling truly trapped for the first time since the attack began. She took in the horde of Autons ambling toward her and realized the number of mannequins had increased during her little sprint for freedom. She had a terrible feeling that the mannequins in the basement were trickling up the stairs and joining the Auton horde. She felt justified at that moment for her fear of dolls growing up. A fear August had insisted she get child therapy for. He insisted she not believe her dolls were sentient creatures of the night almost as fiercely as he'd insisted she stop believing in magic and unicorns.

"Come on, Doctor. Where are you?" she murmured, a desperate edge to her voice.

"And just who's asking?"

Zoe spun around to see the Doctor in his ninth generation, all blue eyes and big ears with his trademark black leather jacket, walk through the adjacent exit door like she hadn't been struggling to open it moments before.

Zoe turned on the Doctor, hazel eyes blazing with relief and irrational anger. She whacked him in the arm. Hard. "You're late!"

"Oi! Do I know you?" he asked, rubbing the spot she hit him, but he couldn't fool her. She saw how his stormy blue eyes gleamed with piqued interest.

"Introductions later. A little busy at the moment," Zoe grunted, yanking on the door handles again. The door shuddered against her effort, still refusing to open for her. "Figures," she muttered. "Let's people in, but doesn't let anyone out."

"Right," the Doctor said, looking at her curiously. Then he clapped his hands and rubbed them together excitedly. "So what am I late for exactly?"

"As if you don't know already," Zoe said exasperated, as she grasped his chin with her hand, turning his head to look at the approaching mob of Autons. Thank goodness they were so slow. "The Nestene Consciousness is bringing mannequins to life and controlling them, but you knew that already, didn't you? Isn't that why you brought," she reached into the Doctor's leather jacket and yanked out the bomb hidden in his inside pocket, "this!"

The Doctor's eyes widened in alarm. "Give that back! You don't know what you're messing with."

"Oh, I know exactly what this is," Zoe said matter-of-factly. "There's a relay device on top of the building sending a signal, and you plan to blow up the store." She waved the bomb under the Doctor's nose. "No signal, no living plastic."

The Doctor snatched it out of her hand and put it carefully back in his pocket. His brow furrowed in, if Zoe had to guess, a mix between suspicion and intrigue. "You're pretty smart for an ape. How do you know all this?" he asked. The casual tone to his voice sounding forced to her ears.

"Can't the explanations wait?" Zoe cried, gesturing frantically to the horde. The mannequins were closing in on them. They only had a few feet left to go before reaching them. This was not the time for her to explain her situation and set the Doctor's mind at ease.

"Right you are," the Doctor said, realizing they were surrounded, but then he grinned and grabbed her hand like she really was Rose Tyler. "Run!"

* * *

Zoe knew that the Doctor had to be in great shape and fast to outrun so many monsters in the show, but she didn't know how fast until she found herself being pulled along for the ride. He expertly guided her around the mannequin horde and along the lobby's wall toward the Employees Only door faster than she could keep up. He was half-dragging her with him. Despite the immediate danger, it felt completely surreal. The Doctor in the flesh, holding her hand, and running away with him from aliens that decided emulating blockbuster horror movies starring dolls was a good idea.

Has she mentioned how insane, not to mention terrifying, this all was?

Realizing they were getting away, the horde hastily turned in the direction they were fleeing, but their mechanical movements were too slow to be an immediate threat. Some of the living plastic creatures had a better idea than give chase again. Several gunshots trailed after them, leaving fresh burn marks on the wall where Zoe had been positioned only seconds before. She suspected she had the Doctor to thank for that, as he kept yanking her forward with inhuman strength, so she was clear of the gunshots. She could already feel her hand starting to bruise from his powerful grip, but she wasn't about to complain.

They skidded through the Employees Only door, pushing past the mannequins that lingered in the backroom, and ran straight for the elevator. Never had Zoe been so glad to see an elevator before.

As if expecting them, the elevator doors slid open followed by a clear ding. The Doctor rushed in still dragging an out of breath Zoe behind him. Holding the stitch in her side, she leaned against the wall to catch her breath and calm her racing heart.

The Doctor pushed the button for the roof, surprising her. She thought the Doctor would want to send her home before he dealt with the relay device on the roof. He'd sent Rose home in the show right before he blew up her work. Was it because this world was slightly different from the show? There have been some notable differences so far. For instance, no one asked her to give lottery money to anyone, and Robert said they didn't have an electric engineer named Wilson when she had asked about him. She'd gotten an odd look for even asking.

Pushing aside her questions for later, she followed up the Time Lord's floor choice with the Close Doors button, pressing it rapidly until the doors started to slide shut. Now that they seemed to be out of immediate danger, she tried to relax, taking her cue from the Doctor's calm, casual stance and crossed arms. She should have known better.

A mannequin arm shot through the narrow opening between the elevator doors to keep it from closing fully, mere inches from Zoe's face, causing her to let out a startled scream.

The Doctor rushed forward to tug on the arm until it detached from its body with a loud pop. The elevator doors closed and began to rise. The sudden ascent causing her stomach to perform an uncomfortable somersault.

The Doctor smirked and tossed the mannequin's arm to Zoe. Expecting it, she caught the arm easily. She held it at a distance from herself, feeling extremely creeped out by the way its fingers seemed to be reaching for her. She wasn't in the mood to have a plastic arm attack her face, thank you very much.

"Didn't take you for a screamer," he said.

Her cheek's tinged a pretty pink, embarrassed by both the fact she had screamed and at his unintentional innuendo. It was unintentional, right? "I'm not," she denied immediately. "It just startled me is all."

"Sure, it did," the Doctor agreed easily, shooting her a cheeky grin before his expression turned serious. "So, tell me. What's your name?"

"Zoe," she said, no hesitation this time when introducing herself. "Zoe Peyton."

"Well, Zoe Peyton, now is the time for explanations." His vivid blue eyes stared her down. "How do you know me? Somehow, you knew about the relay device and my plan to use a bomb. And somehow you know about the Nestene Consciousness and living plastic." He looked her up and down. "Are you alien?"

Zoe fidgeted with the plastic arm in her hands. Now that he was here, she realized she didn't know where to begin, and a small part of her worried that he wouldn't believe her if she told the truth. _Your life is a television show, and today I woke up as your companion, Rose Tyler_. Yeah. The truth didn't sound like the explanation of a sane person. But Zoe hated lying and didn't want to start now. It was bad enough she called Jackie Mom. Madison had always said her honesty was her best trait, but would honesty actually help her here? Would he even accept the truth?

The rising tension was punctured by the ding of the elevator announcing their arrival. The cliché phrase saved by the bell flitted through her mind. The elevator doors slid open to reveal a clear night sky, and to her relief, a mannequin-free roof. Cold, crisp air rushed into the elevator, causing goosebumps to ripple down her bare arms.

Not waiting for her answer, the Doctor moved swiftly toward a huge satellite dish set up dead-center on the roof. From the Doctor's intent expression, Zoe surmised it must be the relay device.

How in the world did the Nestene Consciousness, what she knew to be a massive vat of bubbling lava-like liquid, manage to get this on the roof? Even with the help of mannequins, she didn't think they would be capable of getting this up here. And then a more important question occurred to her.

"Doctor," she began hesitantly, as he scanned the device with his sonic screwdriver, which emitted the familiar warbling noise she loved. If their lives weren't in danger, she might have allowed herself to fan-girl a little at seeing it in action.

"Yeah?" he asked, glancing at her once before returning his attention to the relay device. He took out the bomb from his inside jacket pocket and began to attach it to the base, using his sonic screwdriver to set it up.

"If it's important to their plans, why would the Nestene Consciousness leave the relay device unguarded?"

The Doctor's brow furrowed in thought. "That's actually a very good question. Probably didn't think you humans could do anything to stop them. Didn't expect me, did they? Ha. Big mistake," he said arrogantly. "Must have taken a lot of effort to get up here in the first place though. Automatons, er, the mannequins I mean, aren't known for their strength or coordinated movements. It's a wonder they got this up here at all."

The Doctor continued to rattle off information while he worked, but Zoe had stopped listening, her attention drawn to the plastic arm suddenly twisting and turning in her grip. She tightened her hold on it, unwilling to let it escape and attack either her or the Doctor, but the arm only increased its struggle, jerking violently until it ripped free from her grasp. Instead of latching onto her face like she feared, it flipped over her shoulder…

And she felt a sudden unnatural wind lashing at her back. A distinct odor of burning plastic irritated her nose, and the terrifying sounds of something ripping and tearing raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

The Doctor cut off mid-ramble, his attention caught by whatever was happening behind her, and fear trickled down her spine at his expression. Whatever could inspire a look torn between horror and surprise on his face scared her. He smoothed his features over though, most likely for her benefit, and masterfully hid them beneath a calm facade. If she hadn't been watching him closely, she wouldn't have known any better.

With one last electric warble of the sonic screwdriver, the Time Lord scrambled urgently to his feet and held out his hand for her to take. "Zoe, get behind me. Now."

She didn't have to be told twice. She reached for his hand and was surprised when he snatched her offered hand, yanking her behind him forcefully. She stumbled into his back and backed up a couple of steps to put a respectable distance between them. She shouldn't have bothered. The moment she saw what exactly had been going on directly behind her, she closed the distance between them again and squeezed the Doctor's hand in a death grip.

She watched wide-eyed, as mannequin body parts flew up the staircase and through an open door near the elevator she hadn't noticed earlier. Then again, the Doctor must not have seen the door either. Otherwise, she was sure he would have locked it with his sonic screwdriver to prevent something like this very thing from happening.

Forming in the midst of a whirlwind of flying mannequin heads, torsos, legs, and arms was a giant plastic monstrosity. The mannequin body parts were colliding together before fusing with each other to create the giant Auton in front of her. It looked like an ogre and troll had a baby, and it was made of melted plastic. There were gaping holes where the eyes were meant to be, and any doubts about whether it had a mouth were silenced when the creature's face split open and it roared. Spit and plastic flecks sprayed down on them like acid rain.

 _Well_ , Zoe thought dryly, _that explains how the Nestene Consciousness got a relay device on the roof_.

"Right. Didn't expect that," the Doctor muttered before yelling for the second time that night, "Run!"

He pulled her by the hand toward the ledge. Zoe glanced over her shoulder in time to see the monster swipe at the spot they'd been standing just seconds before, its fist grasping air.

"Doctor, we're going the wrong way," Zoe pointed out, gasping for breath in between words and just doing her best to keep up with the Time Lord's manic pace. Reading books all the time is not conducive to keeping a woman in shape. "The elevator's back there."

"That's because we're not taking the elevator," he said.

"Then how are we -"

She never got to finish her question, because the Doctor suddenly released her hand, and without a second look at her, jumped over the side of the building, disappearing over the ledge in a flash of black leather. All thoughts of the Auton monster chasing them across the rooftop fled her mind.

"Doctor!" she shrieked and rushed forward to the roof's edge, fearing for his life. Before she could look over the ledge, the Doctor's head popped up, startling her into screaming again for the second time that night. She noticed with relief and a tinge of annoyance that he was standing perfectly safe on a fire escape.

"Come on. We don't have all day!" the Doctor ordered. He jutted his chin at something behind her meaningfully, and Zoe remembered the reason they'd been running in the first place. Her eyes widened at seeing the monster charging towards her, faster than she would have thought possible for an entity made up of fused mannequin parts. The building rattled from each heavy, pounding step.

The Doctor made an impatient sound and grabbed her hand again to pull her over the ledge. A small shriek escaped her at the sudden sensation of falling, but the Doctor caught her around the waist to ease her onto her feet.

"Hurry!" he ordered, leading the way down the fire escape stairwell. "We're running out of time."

"Running out of time before what?" she asked, but he didn't answer her. He seemed to be counting under his breath.

The Doctor stopped suddenly two flights down, causing Zoe to crash into his back. He turned and grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. "Time's up," he said. With his hands still locked onto her shoulders, he gazed intently into her hazel green eyes. "Zoe, I know we just met, and you seem to know me. But, do you trust me?"

"With my life," she said without hesitation, sounding a bit breathless from all the running.

His vivid blue eyes widened in surprise and what might have been wonder. Another roar ripped through the air above them, and the Doctor's expression snapped back to business. "Good, because I'm about to do this." He pulled her roughly against his solid chest and wrapped his arms securely around her before turning and leaping off the fire escape. He shifted his weight mid-air, so his body would be underneath her, as they hurtled toward the dark pavement below together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take the time to review. Did you like it? Hate it? Your reviews are my weekly sustenance. Without them, I'll starve. Starve, I tell you. You wouldn't want that on your conscience, would you? Would you?!
> 
> *clears throat and takes a deep, calming breath*
> 
> Now for the question of the week, tell me your deepest, darkest secret. Just kidding.
> 
> Instead, riddle me this...
> 
> If you had a millionaire dollars, what would you do with it?
> 
> I would throw money in the air, dance in it, swim it, and bathe in it. Okay, not really, but...
> 
> I would use the money to buy my family a small house, set my daughter up for success with the best education money could buy for a three-year-old, and invest the rest of the money. Despite all appearances to the contrary, I'm reasonable like that.


	4. Disbelief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For your reading convenience, a quick recap:
> 
> The Doctor stopped suddenly two flights down, causing Zoe to crash into his back. He turned and grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. "Time's up," he said. With his hands still locked onto her shoulders, he gazed intently into her hazel green eyes. "Zoe, I know we just met, and you seem to know me. But, do you trust me?"
> 
> "With my life," she said without hesitation, sounding a bit breathless from all the running.
> 
> His vivid blue eyes widened in surprise and what might have been wonder. Another roar ripped through the air above them, and the Doctor's expression snapped back to business. "Good, because I'm about to do this." He pulled her roughly against his solid chest and wrapped his arms securely around her before turning and leaping off the fire escape. He shifted his weight mid-air, so his body would be underneath her, as they hurtled toward the dark pavement below together.
> 
> Now without further ado, read and enjoy!

_Did he just?_ In a state of disbelief, she tilted her head back with some difficulty to look up at the store's roof, moving further and further away. _Yes, yes, he did._ The rapid descent of their fall pushed air through her dark brunette hair, so it rippled out in waves.

She could make out the shrinking silhouette of the giant Auton monster leaning over the building's ledge, staring at them with its huge, creepy gaping holes for eyes. The roof lights gleaming through them like cat eyes shining in the dark.

In the same moment the monster opened its mouth to roar at them, the building exploded beside them, swallowing up the monster and building in a bright fiery blast. Debris and hot air blew down on them. The force of the explosion propelling them to the side and speeding up their descent, as golden flames licked up the sides of what was left of Nickie's.

She buried her face in the Doctor's chest, partly to shield her gaze from the blazing light, but mostly unable to bear looking around, as they fell to their probable deaths. They were going to die, and it would be her fault, all because she was a Zoe and not a Rose. Her presence had altered tonight's events until they were unrecognizable from the show.

Seeming to sense the tension in her thin frame, the Doctor tightened his hold on her and cradled the back of her head, as he lowered his mouth to her ear. "Trust me," he said simply, loud enough to be heard over the wind.

She lifted her head up to say she did trust him and then thought better of it when she saw the rapidly approaching ground. She nodded into his chest instead, hoping that the Doctor had an actual plan. She sensed him shift their weight again, so they were hurtling towards the earth in a nosedive. Despite her desire to trust him, she felt herself instinctively brace for impact in his arms and clenched her eyes shut, and so was shocked when they fell headfirst into a pool of deep water.

Zoe's breath hitched in surprise at the unexpected sensation of submerging in water, something she immediately regretted, as water filled her lungs, choking her. She felt the Doctor's legs kick against hers, propelling their bodies up through the water until their heads emerged. He took in a deep breath of air while Zoe coughed and spluttered in between ragged breaths. Chlorine water burned her nostrils, and her throat and lungs felt raw.

While Zoe struggled to breathe, the Doctor swam them to the edge of the swimming pool with one arm. Grabbing hold of the ladder, he used it to steady himself, so he could push Zoe up onto the pool deck. Not needing any encouragement, she pulled herself up the rest of the way and crawled forward, eager to put some distance between herself and the swimming pool, before flipping onto her back. A noisy squelch sounded when her waterlogged clothes met the dry white tile.

Her eyes widened when she spotted black smoke trailing into the room through what could only be the TARDIS doors, looking out of place on the arching white ceiling. She watched in amazement, as the fire continued to blaze and consume Rose's workplace beyond the doors until the TARDIS closed them, and the blue doors faded into a vague outline before disappearing completely.

She heard the TARDIS wheeze and knew the ship was relocating to somewhere safer than downtown London.

There was another loud wet plop, as the Doctor laid down next to her. She turned her head and saw that he was watching her carefully. He had discarded his leather jacket and was donning a plain black t-shirt. It was soaked through, and she tried not to notice how it clung to his defined chest like a second skin.

"Welcome to the TARDIS," he grinned at her. "Most people walk in through the front door, not fall through it. Of course, you're also the first person to see the swimming pool before the console room."

"How?" she croaked.

"Emergency protocol," he said with a slight shrug. "If I'm falling to my death, the TARDIS is programmed to switch to auto-pilot, appear under me with her doors open, and catch me. She manipulated the layout of the ship, so we would fall into the swimming pool. Better chance of survival that way. Of course," he added as an afterthought, "the protocol is only triggered when falling from a certain height, if the TARDIS has enough time to manifest, as well as a lot of other factors..." He trailed off, noticing her confusion. "That's T.A.R.D.I.S., as in Time and Relative Dimension in Space. You're in my spaceship. It travels through time and space."

"I know," she said without thinking.

"And how could you know that?" he asked. The suspicion was back in his blue eyes, but there was also an equal amount of intrigue. The same piqued interest she noticed when he met her back in the store. "Are you from my future?"

"I suppose I could be," she said uncertainly, "but not in the way you think. That's up to you. If you want me, around that is." She cleared her throat, realizing she was rambling and turned her head away from the Doctor's searching gaze to hide a slight blush. She returned his gaze after a moment. There was something she needed to know before she answered his other question. "How did you know it would work? That the TARDIS would make it in time, I mean?"

"I didn't," he admitted.

Zoe closed her eyes, exhaustion from the day's events catching up with her. "Rule number one: the Doctor always lies," she quoted aloud from the show.

With her eyes closed, she didn't see how the Doctor looked startled at her. By the time she opened her eyes, his expression had cleared, and he was climbing to his feet. He extended his hand out towards her, and she took it reluctantly, allowing him to pull her up onto her feet.

Her muscles protested the sudden movement, screaming with aches and pains in places she didn't know could become sore. The adrenaline rush from the chase was wearing off, leaving her feeling jittery and exhausted. Her poor toes twinged with pain from running in shoes too small for her, and she made quick work of removing the now water-logged shoes. Unsurprisingly, her toes were red and looking bruised. At this point, all she wanted was a hot shower, to change into dry clothes, and crawl into her bed back home. Not the just-bought-mattress back in her apartment, but the bed she grew up sleeping in. A pang went through her at the thought she may never get to go home. May never see Madison or August again. Or, learn the truth about what happened the night August called. Did he die like she thinks he did? What if he was alive, waiting for her back in their world, and didn't know where she was? It hurt to think she may never know.

Oblivious to Zoe's thoughts, the Doctor picked up his sopping leather jacket, threw it over his shoulder, and called to her. "C'mon. Let's talk more in the console room," he said, walking toward a dark blue wooden door that opened on its own upon his approach. "It's time you explain how you know so much about me, my ship, and everything else." He spun around and proceeded to walk backwards through the doorway, so he could point an accusing finger at her. "And no more dodging the question. Don't think I haven't noticed. Pretty observant, me."

She sighed and swept back her wet chocolate locks that had been plastered to the side of her face and neck, then followed him through the door. She was unsurprised when they exited the pool room directly into the TARDIS' console room, figuring the ship must have rerouted the layout of the rooms to save them time. Her eyes swept over the shiny copper walls and coral before dragging her gaze to the controls. Emerald light pulsed from the console, illuminating the room with its green sheen.

The Doctor flew straight to the console, pulling a monitor down and turning it on with a flick of a switch. Circular Gallifreyan symbols flew across the screen faster than her eyes could follow. "Start talking, Peyton," he ordered without even looking at her. His attention focused on the screen as if it held all the answers to the universe. For all she knew, it did.

"I don't know where to start," she said honestly, tugging at the bottom of her shirt nervously. She wished he'd let her change her clothes first. It was cold and uncomfortable, standing around in wet clothes and with bare feet. She must look like a drowned mouse to him. She glanced down at herself and froze, feeling suddenly grateful for the Nickie's work-apron forced on her by Jackie. It was covering the front of what was now a mostly see-through white t-shirt.

"How about the beginning," the Doctor suggested, without looking up. "That's usually how most stories start."

She fidgeted for a moment, then sighed before sitting down on one of the seats attached to coral near the controls. "Well, I suppose it started yesterday. I'd worked a twelve-hour shift, finishing up this huge writing project for this mortgage company. The deadline got pushed up because management wanted to enforce new state regulations that didn't go into effect for another month." She rolled her eyes at that shred of stupidity. "So I was forced to work late into the night to deliver it on time. I'm a writer, by the way."

"Wait," the Doctor interjected, finally pulling his attention away from the monitor to look at her. "I thought you worked in a shop. Are you telling me you have two jobs?"

"Actually, I'm unemployed now," she said wryly. "But, I was, hopefully still am, a professional writer if I can ever make it back home, and I only worked at Nickie's today, so I could meet you. Now if you'd let me continue the story, it will begin to make sense to you."

The Doctor rolled his hands out in an exaggerated gesture that seemed to say, _The stage is all yours_.

"By the time, I got home. All I wanted to do was curl up on the couch and watch my favorite show." She hesitated and tried to gather the courage to tell him the show starred his life, but her courage failed her at the moment. She stared at her clasped hands and licked her dry lips. "It was a Friday night, my day had been hell, so I thought I deserved it. I stayed up most of the night watching it." She hesitated, not ready to talk about August and his call.

"Yesterday was a Tuesday, not a Friday," he informed her.

"It was a Friday for me," she countered.

"But, it couldn't have been. Unless you're a time traveler, that is. Do you have a time vortex manipulator hidden on you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not."

"But, you know what it is," he said, sounding triumphant.

"Obviously."

"You're a time agent then. Of course you are," he bit out harshly, not giving her a chance to defend herself. He sounded almost disappointed. "It would explain your knowledge of the Nestene Consciousness, living plastic, and even me." Agitated, he paced back and forth across the room in a few swift steps until he whipped around to face her, crossing his arms in the process. "But, that wouldn't explain how you knew my plan to blow up the relay device." He regarded her suspiciously. "Have you been following me?"

She leaned back in her seat, mirrored his folded arms, and raised a single eyebrow. "Even if I was a time agent and had a time vortex manipulator, which I don't," she began, her tone sardonic, "how would I be able to track a ship that can travel through time and space?" She emphasized the last three words, hoping to get her point across.

"Fair point," he allowed after a moment of consideration.

"Hang on. When did you dry yourself?" she demanded, noticing the dry state of his hair and clothes for the first time. He was back to wearing his signature leather jacket as if it never took a dip in the swimming pool.

The Doctor shrugged. "Ten minutes ago?"

"And you didn't think I'd appreciate being dry, too?" she asked, gesturing to her wet attire with an annoyed huff. His eyes skimmed over her in seemingly deliberate, slow sweep. If she didn't know he was alien and had a penchant for blondes, she would have thought he was checking her out. All the same, she had to fight down the blush that threatened to appear on her face. Again.

"You didn't ask," he finally said.

"I shouldn't have to ask. It's called being considerate." She shook her head, remembering who she was talking to. The Doctor was the definition of rude. "Never mind. Could you please just sonic me dry?"

He almost seemed to hesitate before simply nodding and waving his sonic screwdriver over her. She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, as hot air fanned over her, drying her hair and clothes in an instant. Though she wished she'd thought to ask for a brush first, as she worked her fingers through her tangled hair. After a minute or two, she gave up combing out the knots without a proper hairbrush, and pulled her hair back up into a messy ponytail, using the hair tie on her wrist.

She was so focused on her task, she didn't see the Doctor sweep the sonic screwdriver discretely over her a second time. He glanced back at the monitor and sucked in an alarmed breath.

"What is it?" she asked, dropping her hands from her haphazard ponytail and looking up at him concerned. She glanced at the screen. "Does it have to do with the monster back on the roof?"

"That wasn't a monster," he said with a slightly forced grin, stepping in front of the monitor and blocking her view. Zoe frowned at this less than subtle movement. She couldn't read Gallifreyan, so what was he trying to hide from her? "That was an Auton, a very huge, ugly Auton at that," he continued, "though I've never seen anything like it before. The Nestenes are a hive mind race, extremely intelligent and ruthless when they want something. The Nestene Consciousness animates the plastic and controls the living plastic by transmitting orders, but to manipulate the plastic like that, to create a giant Auton from other Automatons, that was new. Never seen that before. Gives a new meaning to recycling, really."

"The giant Auton might have been what put the relay device on the roof in the first place," she suggested, deciding to focus on the issue at hand. If the Doctor didn't want her to know something, it was probably for a good reason. She just hoped whatever he was hiding didn't get her killed.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. Whether it was the fact she understood everything he said or her suggestion, she wasn't sure. "Might have been," he agreed, seeming to study her for a moment, then his eyes narrowed, looking severely annoyed. "Now look at what you've done! You got me talking about living plastic when we were talking about you. I don't see how you spending your night watching telle like any stupid ape has to do with how you know so much or what you were doing at Nickie's if you don't actually work there."

Zoe bristled at the implied insult. "Actually, I'm pretty sure they are connected, Doctor," she replied, trying to keep her voice light and failing. The Time Lord's blue eyes widened slightly at her icy tone.

She turned her head away, forcing herself to take a deep breath in an effort to calm down. When that didn't seem to curb her irritation, she gave up, clicking her tongue in annoyance. "Look, I don't understand it any more than you do," she said, returning her gaze to the Doctor, "but this morning I woke up, and," she paused, taking another deep breath before pushing forward, "and it wasn't just a TV show anymore. It was real. You were real, are real."

The Doctor's face scrunched up in confusion at the same time his eyes widened incredulously. "What?"

"You're the main character of my favorite show. It's called Doctor Who," she rushed on, feeling relief that the truth was finally out in the open, though it was quickly overwhelmed by anxiety, as she took in the Doctor's disbelieving expression. Would he think she was crazy? "It's a series that follows your life and adventures. It's how I knew about the Nestene Consciousness and living plastic. It's the first episode of the series after it was rebooted. I don't know how it happened, but I think I woke up in an alternate universe where, where you're real." Her voice faltered on the last few words, as the Doctor stared down at her, his mouth a straight line and blue eyes unreadable.

An uncomfortable silence fell in the TARDIS. Those kinds of silences were a little too common lately. She bit her lip and tried not to fidget under his piercing gaze. She got the feeling he was dissecting every word she'd said and reading her body language to determine if she was telling the truth or not.

When the silence became too much, she cleared her throat. "Well?"

"That's impossible," he said. "I believe you think you're telling the truth, but I'm telling you it's impossible. The odds of you waking up in an alternate dimension for no apparent reason, where something you watched on the telle is reality, are so infinitesimally small. The odds are literally 1 in a Marsene Prime." At her blank look, he explained with a resigned sigh, "Marsene Prime is considered the biggest known number."

"But, I can prove it," she said quickly. "I know about paradoxes, weeping angels, and that there's apple grass on a planet called New Earth. How do you explain I know that?"

He waved off her words. "This just goes back to my first theory. You could be a time agent from the future who's visited New Earth, met weeping angels on some misguided venture, and probably caused a couple paradoxes yourself."

Zoe dug her fingernails into her hands, feeling desperate for him to believe her. Listing off facts clearly wasn't enough for him, so she'd have to get a little closer to home. "Then how do I know you're a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey and that you have two hearts?" The Doctor visibly stiffened, looking like she struck him. The guilt seeping into her gut made her feel like hitting him would have been kinder, but she couldn't stop now. She _needed_ him to believe her. "How do I know you're the last of your race? Your nickname in college was Theta. Your best friend was the Master. You ran after looking into the Untempered Schism when you were eight, and -"

The Doctor's hand covered her mouth, effectively stopping her talking. "Stop," he breathed, sounding like he was in pain. "Just stop." When she nodded against his hand, he released her, but turned around, so his back was facing her. His posture was stiff and ramrod straight.

"I'm sorry," she said, twisting her hands, and she really was. The guilt was eating her up inside. She knew this version of him was fresh from the Time War, but she couldn't think of an alternative solution. "Do you," she hesitated, "do you believe me now?"

He spun around to face her. His expression hardened and mouth back to a straight line. "No. I don't. There are a thousand reasons more likely than you knowing my personal history from watching a television show. Telepathy, precognition, and time sensitivity for starters," he began rattling a list of psychic abilities off his fingers, "even the TARDIS telling you all of that telepathically would be more likely than you being from an alternate dimension where I'm just a fictional character."

The Doctor took a deep breath, and his expression shifted to one of compassion. "The mind is brilliant. Capable of so much. Always looking for patterns and answers where there are none. Only about 90% of the brain is used by the average human, even among other sentient races, and you must have tapped into the other 10%. Genuine psychic abilities are rare and even harder to explain."

She was shaking her head at this point in his speech, already sensing what he was getting at, but he ignored her. "You didn't know how to explain it to yourself," he said, "so you concocted this impossible story to explain how you know so much, more than should be possible."

Zoe swallowed hard, tears skimming her lower lashes. She desperately pushed back the urge to cry. He didn't believe her, but at least he didn't seem to think she was crazy, just an irrational human being trying to explain the unknown away. "I know where the Nestene Consciousness is located," she tried to reason with him. "I know what adventures wait for you after you defeat it, and you think I'm just…"

"Seeing into the past and future," he finished for her. "Yeah."

"No, I'm not," she denied with a firm shake of her head. "I am from a different universe, and August -," she stopped and changed track. "I have to get back to my family. You're my only hope of getting home."

He shook his head slowly. His gaze full of sympathy, and maybe even a little empathy. "No, I'm sorry, but even if what you're saying is true, crossing between dimensions is impossible. Once the Time Lords -"

She cut him off, not wanting to hear what she already knew, that only the Time Lords could control the multiverse, and with them gone, travel between universes was supposed to be impossible. "I know you think it's impossible, but crossing universes is in your future. You'll -"

Before she could finish her sentence, he covered her mouth with his hand again. "Whatever you were going to say, don't," he said seriously. "It's not safe to know too much about your own future. The fabric of time could unravel if I do or say something I wouldn't have in the original timeline. Regardless of how you know what you know, you're going to need to learn what is safe to share and what isn't."

She sighed when his hand dropped away, realizing it was pointless arguing with him. No matter what she said, he didn't believe her, and part of her sensed he didn't want to believe her. She couldn't really blame him though; no one wants to learn they're just a fictional character in another world.

Seeming to sense Zoe had given up trying to convince him, the Doctor took her hand in his, surprising her. "Come on," he said, leading her into a hallway. "You're dead on your feet. Pretty sure you've been running on adrenaline and using sheer will power alone to stand here and argue with me." As if on cue, Zoe stifled an unexpected yawn, causing the Doctor to grin at her. "You can sleep in the TARDIS tonight." Then he added in stern voice, "But, just for tonight."

"But, what about the Nestene Consciousness? What if it attacks during the night?" she asked, barely registering what he said or where he was taking her. Now that she had no pressing agenda to attend to like running from Autons or persuading the Doctor she was from an alternate universe, it seemed all of the stress from today and lack of sleep the night before was catching up to her. Her eyelids drooped sleepily, and she had to fight to keep them open.

"It won't," he said confidently. "We interfered with its plan. Right now, it's probably falling back on plan B, but that'll take time. We'll deal with it in the morning after you've gotten a good night's rest."

Zoe barely registered that he was including her in his plans for tomorrow, but didn't have the energy or time to comment on it, as they stopped in front a white wooden door with her name, Zoe, painted across it in bright green. "The TARDIS must like you," he murmured, his brow furrowing together at the unexpected sight. "She's already prepared a room for you."

Her eyes widened slightly at that, finding herself more awake at this revelation. "Really?" She looked at the TARDIS ceiling and touched the wall with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered.

Brief surprise that she'd addressed the TARDIS directly flickered across the Doctor's face, even as the TARDIS emitted a light pleased sounding hum.

"Well, go on then," the Doctor said with a small smile, "open the door."

Zoe returned the smile easily and went to turn the door handle. It swung open at the lightest touch, revealing a replica of her bedroom — not from her apartment, but her childhood bedroom. Everything looked the same, down to the sky blue walls, mahogany dresser, bookcase, and princess canopy bed.

"It's my room from back home," she said, her voice thick with emotion. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, and she wiped them away, feeling embarrassed. She blamed the sleep deprivation. "Everything's here, but it's even better than I left it." At the Doctor's silent questioning glance, she said, "She added pictures of my family."

Several framed pictures of Zoe and August covered the walls and the top of her old dresser. Some of the pictures she recognized from August's scrapbook. Like the snapshot of a seven-year-old Zoe making cookies and getting flour all over herself and August by proxy. His expression was priceless - his gentle blue eyes both exasperated and extremely fond all at once. She couldn't help, but chuckle looking at it, even as she felt a terrible sadness grip her.

"That's my father, August" she said, pointing the picture out to the Doctor. The Time Lord grinned at the picture, his eyes sweeping over the photos. "He's really my uncle, but he took me in when my mom died and raised me."

The Doctor frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah," she said, releasing a shaky breath. She really, really did not want to reveal she thinks her father might be dead now, too. So, she rushed forward to grab an old Halloween picture she recognized from August's scrapbook. "This is me and my best friend Mads when we were kids. I'm the fireman, because of course it had to be something real, but if it had to be real, it had to be cool," she said, not noticing the way the Doctor frowned at her odd wording. "And Mads was a little diva queen even back then. See she's dressed up as Cleopatra and throwing sass at the camera." She rolled her eyes, laughing at a kid Madison striking a pose fit for a teen model.

The Doctor chuckled with her, but she couldn't tell if he just humoring her or if he sincerely found it funny. Before she could ask, he pointed over her shoulder. "Who's that?"

She turned to see what he was looking at and felt her jaw drop. An oval portrait of her mother framed in ornate silver was sitting on her bedside table.

"That's my mother," she said in quiet disbelief. She thought the TARDIS was using her memory to create the room, so how could the TARDIS duplicate a picture she'd never seen? "I'd forgotten what she looked like. I didn't have any pictures of her growing up. It seemed like the harder I tried to remember her, the fuzzier her face became in my head."

"May I?" he asked, gesturing at the picture, and she could only nod.

He walked over and picked up the picture. Looking back and forth between her and the picture. "She's very beautiful. You look just like her."

"Thank you," she murmured, tugging on her sleeve in embarrassment. August had told her on more than one occasion she looked like her mother, but it was a very different thing to hear it from the Doctor. Also, he just indirectly told her she was beautiful, and she didn't know quite what to do with that. In the end, she shoved it to the back of her mind for later - or never.

"You're welcome," he said with a grin. Then his eyes fell on a paperback laying on the pillow. "Oh, what's this?" he asked, scooping it up before she could stop him. It all happened so fast, there was nothing she could have done to prevent it. Within seconds, his easy grin turned into a shit-eating-one, and her face turned beet-red. "Oh-ho, what have we here? _Savage Sins_ ," he read the title aloud. He flipped it to read the back. "A romance story involving a dominant werewolf and a human witch. My, my, don't we have interesting tastes in literature." He opened the cover to the first page, and she knew he intended to speed-read it. She jumped forward, snatching the book out of his hands.

"Nope, no. Just no." There was no way she was going to let him read erotica in her bedroom and especially not with her in the room.

"Oh come on. Even I appreciate a bit of romance," the Doctor said.

She shook her head firmly. "Get your own copy."

He pouted playfully. "So mean."

She couldn't help but laugh at him. Keeping one eye on him the whole time, as if he might leap at her to seize the book, she tucked her guilty-pleasure into the second dresser drawer underneath her old pajamas. This action only seemed to amuse him, his lips quirking up in a smile.

She frowned at him suspiciously until her hazel eyes lit up. "Oh, wait. If this room is practically identical to the one I grew up in, then it should have…" She trailed off, hurrying to stand in front of the bedroom door. She walked three footsteps forward and two steps right, stopping over a floorboard. She stomped her foot down twice and did a happy dance when the sound came back hollow. She dropped to her knees and pried the long floorboard loose, lifting it to reveal her secret library stash.

She whipped out the first book lying on top. In this case, _Inkheart_. "Yes!"

"Oooh, what's this?"

She looked up to see the Doctor leaning over with interest to peer into her hide-a-hole. "My books," she said happily.

"Your books," he said dryly. "May I ask why you hid them in the floor? They're not even banned books. Why not just put them on a bookcase instead? Like that one." He pointed at the matching mahogany bookcase by her bed. It was filled with books…just all classics and slice-of-life fiction. Nothing to get excited over, really.

"Oh! Well, I wasn't allowed to read books like this," she said, pulling out her copy of the _Sorcerer_ _'s Stone_.

The Doctor's eyebrows lifted in horror. "Really? Why not?"

Zoe shrugged. "I don't know. I just wasn't allowed entertainment that wasn't 'grounded in reality.'"

"That sounds like a seriously deprived childhood."

She shook her head and shrugged. "Nah. Mads took care of me, but even she got weird about what I read, too, later on." She bent over to tuck the books into the floorboard, stifling a huge yawn as she did so. Due to this, she completely missed the Doctor's thoughtful frown.

"Well, I should let you get to sleep," he said after taking in her exhaustion. "We'll head out first thing in the morning."

"Okay," she said brightly. Being in her childhood bedroom — even a duplication of it — had helped ease some of her sorrow. She felt closer to her homeworld and to August. Now if only she could walk out of this room and find August's study down the hall with him inside, lounging at his desk with a steaming cup of earl grey tea and his nose buried in a thick volume.

Thoughts of her missing father hurt, so she turned to look at her mother's picture. She'd died so long ago. She hardly remembered her. She wondered if her mom was alive whether she'd be worried about her. She's technically a missing person in her homeworld now. Like poor Rose is missing in hers, only no one knows. If Rose's mom had accepted the truth, she would be so worried.

At the thought of Jackie, she slapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, no. Jackie!" she cried, suddenly feeling wide awake at remembering Rose's mother. How could she have forgotten Jackie Tyler? "I have to go and see her, make sure she knows I'm okay. She still thinks," she trailed off, biting her lip. She still thinks I'm her daughter, she finished silently. The news of Nickie's exploding would be all over the news by now. Jackie must be worried sick, thinking her daughter is missing or maybe even dead, and here she was comfortable and safe on the TARDIS.

"Jackie who?" the Doctor asked.

"She's," Rose's mom, "the woman I'm staying with."

"Well, she can wait until after you've slept." At her disbelieving stare, he huffed. "Time machine, remember. It'll be as if you came home right after the fire."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You do realize I know your driving record, right? Past and future. You don't exactly have a history of going when and where you want to."

"Oi! I am an excellent driver."

"Uh huh. Well, I have it on good authority that you failed your driving test and stole the TARDIS."

His eyes widened in brief surprise, then he muttered, "Guess I'll have to get used to that: you knowing everything about me."

Zoe turned her head away, looking uncomfortable. "Not everything. Just some things, and it's not because I'm psychic."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Right. Cause you're from an alternate universe and learned it from the telle," he mocked. When she glared and replied with an indignant, "Basically, yeah," he just rolled his eyes again. "Go to bed, Zoe Peyton. Tonight can wait until tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter at a somewhat manic pace. It was fun and seemed to flow out easily until I reached the bit about Zoe needing to stay the night on the Tardis. I hope it's believable. Please review and let me know what you think about Zoe and the Doctor's antics.
> 
> For those who have reviewed, thank you so much. Your feedback means a lot to me. I'm glad you're liking the story so far, and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. 
> 
> As for this chapter's question, let's do a have-you-ever.
> 
> Have you ever drank hot chocolate in the summer?
> 
> I have. I am a hot chocolate addict. Seriously. Hot chocolate is as good on a hot day (indoors with air conditioning) as a snow day in the winter. Just me? Oh, well.


	5. Amiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your reviews! And special kudos to the all-year-round hot cocoa drinkers out there. It's good to know we're not alone in getting our chocolate fix in the summer.
> 
> Now please read and enjoy!

The TARDIS wheezed and groaned, as it faded into existence on the street outside Jackie's flat. Upon stepping out of the TARDIS, Zoe immediately crossed her arms, trying to keep some of the warmth from being stolen by the chill in the air. The Doctor stepped out right behind her, appearing unbothered by the cold. She wondered idly if it was thanks to his leather jacket or superior Time Lord biology. She thought of the Doctor's regenerations wearing brown striped suits and tweed jackets in freezing cold weather and decided it must be the latter.

"Like I promised, it's yesterday night again just after the explosion," the Doctor said, closing the TARDIS door behind him. "Your job blaowing up should only have just aired on that telle you love so much."

Zoe rolled her eyes. "Despite what you may think, I don't watch that much television." At the Doctor's raised eyebrow, she said, "Like I said, binge-watching _Doctor Who_ was a reward to myself for dealing with my supervisor's crap." _And it called to me in ways most shows don_ _'t_ , she added silently. Out loud, she continued, "That isn't something I do a lot. I usually read and write," she tilted her head in consideration, "or doodle. Badly."

The Doctor just shook his head in tolerant amusement. "One day, you're going to realize there is no show called _Doctor Who_ , and feel very, very silly for insisting otherwise."

She let out an annoyed huff. "Once I prove I'm from an alternate universe, you'll eat your words, Doctor," she promised. Then she had to stifle a yawn.

He looked at her with concern, seeming to note the slight bags under her eyes. "Didn't you sleep at all? That was the point of us waiting until now."

"I did sleep," she said. "It just took a few hours before I could fall asleep."

 _Understatement. Of. The. Year._ She spent half the night lying in bed, combing over everything that had happened in the last two days. Over and over again.

August's phone call, the implication he was dying, and his final words to her. Her waking up in another reality where the Doctor was real and Jackie insisted she was Rose.

The lingering guilt from making Jackie cry, because she insisted back she wasn't Rose. Even though it's true, she should have thought about it from Jackie's point of view. It must have seemed like Rose was disowning her own mother for her father.

Vicki's death hit her hard. She just couldn't shake the feeling it was her fault. That bit of guilt hovered over her head like a miniature storm cloud.

Seeing the Autons melt into a giant, plastic monster. Because what the hell? That should have been impossible. _How was that possible?_

Then the piece de resistance — the vivid memory of falling headfirst to the ground with the Doctor, thinking they were both going to die and it would be all her fault…only for them to land in the TARDIS' swimming pool.

It was too much, too fast. Really, it was a wonder she managed to sleep at all.

The Doctor opened his mouth to say something, but right then, the front door of the flat slammed opened, and Jackie appeared at the top of the steps with a phone attached to her head. "I know! She could have died." They heard her cry into the phone. "She deserves compensation." She spotted them over the banister at them. "Hold on, Maurice," she said, right before tucking the phone against her chest. "Rose! Rose, is that you?" She put the phone back against her ear. "Maurice, I've got to call you back. My daughter just got home."

"Rose?" the Doctor repeated, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "I thought your name was Zoe."

"It is Zoe," she muttered low enough for him to hear, as Rose's mother descended upon them. She realized she should have taken the time to explain her situation with Jackie before they arrived. _Oh, well. Here goes nothing._

"Rose," Jackie said, pulling Zoe into a fierce hug, oblivious to her discomfort. Not to the Doctor though. His gaze narrowed in on Zoe's expression and the way her arms hung awkwardly at her sides. She was clearly uncomfortable with the woman's embrace. "Why didn't you answer your phone? I've been worried sick over you. It's all over the news. Someone blew up your job."

"Sorry. Didn't have it on me today," Zoe explained hastily, taking the opportunity to step away from Rose's mom.

"Oh, that makes sense," Jackie said. "I'm just so relieved to see my daughter safe!"

"Hang on," the Doctor said, looking back and forth between the two. "Did you say 'my daughter?' You look nothing like each other."

Zoe glanced at Jackie, noting the differences between them. Jackie was blonde, short, and had a round face while she was tall, had dark brown hair and hazel green eyes. They had nothing in common with each other; she couldn't even say their noses looked similar.

Jackie spun on the spot to stare down the Doctor, finally realizing they weren't alone. Her hands braced her hips, showing off her brash attitude. "Of course she takes after me!" she snapped. "Where do you think she gets her beauty from? Her father? Ha."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at Zoe, seeming to ask silently if the woman was serious or not. He'd seen her mother's portrait after all.

"Jack…I mean, Mom," Zoe said, forcing the word out and getting a pointed eyebrow raise from the Doctor. She knows, she knows, but what else can she do? The woman sees what she wants to see. "Please don't. Let's just go inside."

"Oh, alright. But, who is this man? Why are you with him?"

"This is the Doctor. He saved my life. If it weren't for him, I'd be dead," she said. _There. Hopefully that saves him from Jackie's famous slap later on_ , she thought, _if it even comes to that_.

Jackie's expression lightened at hearing that. Well, she regarded him with less suspicion anyway. "Doctor? Doctor who?"

"Just the Doctor," he said.

"Oh, well, thank you for saving my daughter," she said. "Come on in then. I'll make us some tea." She hustled up the steps and into the flat with the Doctor and Zoe following suit. Jackie headed straight for the kitchen, leaving the Doctor and Zoe in the living room. Standing there, Zoe realized with some chagrin that the Doctor was here a day earlier than the original timeline, and with the arm sucked into the Auton monster, what would the Doctor use to track down the Nestene Consciousness?

"Did you work at the shop with Rose then?" Jackie called out over the sound of running tap water and dishes being pulled from the cupboard.

"Nope," he said, popping the p. The Doctor flitted across the living room like a hummingbird in a room full of nectar. He first poked at a pink, frilly ornament sitting innocently on an end table. Zoe thought it might be a glass pig dressed in a tutu. The Doctor seemed to come to a similar conclusion, as he gave it one last disparaging poke before turning swiftly to pick up one of Jackie's abandoned paperback novels off the coffee table. He flipped through the pages at an unbelievable pace, his eyes darting left to right at a speed that made Zoe's eyes twinge with sympathy pains. His expression, which had morphed from one unreadable emotion to the next, finally settled on disappointment, as he tossed the book over his shoulder. "Rubbish ending."

"Here we are," Jackie sing-songed, as she came into view, carrying a tray with three teacups and a bowl of sugar cubes. Needing a distraction, Zoe claimed a teacup from the tray and simply cradled the cup in her hands, soaking in its warmth. Jackie gave her a strange look but seemed to brush off whatever she'd found odd about this to turn her attention to the Doctor. "Now tell me all about how you saved my girl. Don't leave a detail out. She could have died you know. She deserves compensation!"

But the Doctor didn't seem to hear her. He was staring at some gilded framed pictures on the wall. His eyebrows were raised so high on his forehead, they threatened to disappear into his hairline. An incredible feat, really. Instead of answering Jackie's question, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder at one of the taller portraits. "Who's that?"

Both Zoe and Jackie turned to look at what he was talking about, and Zoe felt her heart convulse in her chest as if an electrical current had passed through her body. It was a still shot of Jackie and Rose, the real Rose, posing in their swimsuits. Rose with her dirty blonde hair, sporting a huge grin and sticking her tongue out at her mother whose expression was one of fond exasperation.

"That's Rose," Jackie said, sounding annoyed and flustered at once. "Can't you tell just by lookin' at her? That picture's only a year old after all."

"I thought you said she was Rose," the Doctor said, pointing at me.

Jackie jumped to her feet and glared, first at the Doctor, before swiveling her heated gaze on me. "What's this then? Is he in on your little joke from this morning? Well, it's not funny. I'm not havin' it."

"What joke?" the Doctor asked.

"I said stop! That's a picture of Rose," she said, throwing her hands in my direction with a helpless air. "It's as obvious as day!"

An uncomfortable silence descended on the flat. The Doctor's gaze was focused on Zoe, serious and intent like she was a puzzle he couldn't solve. She fidgeted under the attention, finding herself wishing for the hundredth time that she'd woken up yesterday on her lumpy, plaid couch. She sipped at her tea and nearly choked on the bitter liquid, and then thinking better of it, she set it down on the tray. She wasn't much of a tea drinker anyway.

At seeing Zoe's reaction to the tea, Jackie hugged herself, seemingly in an effort to comfort herself. "You never take your tea without two lumps of sugar," she whispered, more to herself than them. "What, why…" As she struggled to find the words, a loud gyrating buzz interrupted her. It filled the air like an angry bee.

The Doctor walked forward and plucked the source of the sound from under a white, fluffy couch pillow: a vibrating red cell phone. He flipped it open and answered with false cheer. "Hello." His brows furrowed in irritation at whatever the caller said. "Oi, I should be asking that! Who is this?" The Doctor seemed to be listening with half an ear now, rolling his eyes at Zoe. "Ricky? What kind of name is that?"

Zoe stilled hearing this, remembering too late that Rose's boyfriend, Mickey, had shown up at the flat the night of the explosion, so he could drag her to a pub in the show, something about sports. Did he call her before he showed up? She had a feeling this is one of those strange differences between the show and this reality. She should have been prepared for this possibility though, but in between running from Autons, swimming in the TARDIS pool, and facing Jackie, Mickey had been the furthest thing from her mind.

Whatever Mickey said next made the Doctor scoff, and with an irritated look, he tossed the phone at Zoe. She nearly fumbled the catch. "Some stupid ape named Rickey. Says he's your boyfriend." He air quoted the word boyfriend like the idea was ridiculous.

With an uneasy look at Jackie who hadn't stopped staring at her since the Doctor answered the phone, she raised the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Rose! Who was that?" Mickey demanded more than asked. "Why is there a guy at your place?"

She grimaced and rubbed her temple with her free hand. She so did not have time for his misplaced jealousy, and she didn't have the energy to pretend to be something she wasn't. It was bad enough she was pretending to be someone's daughter; she wasn't going to add girlfriend to that list now. She cleared her throat. "That was the Doctor."

"Doctor?" Mickey said, his tone turning to concern now. "Are you hurt then? I only just heard on the news about your work."

"I'm fine," she said, super aware of how stiff she sounded and of both Jackie and the Doctor's stares. Jackie had her mouth gaping half-open, looking at her with something halfway close to fear. The Doctor was simply observing her, taking in her body language and words with his sharp analytical gaze. She wondered if she looked as tense as she felt.

"Oh, well, then," Mickey charged on, now that it was clear Zoe was not hurt. "You should come to the pub. It'll cheer you up."

"Is there a game on?" Zoe asked, feeding the line she could remember from the show. She didn't have to fake the edge to her words, feeling affected by the uneasy tension in the room.

"Well, yeah, ok, there is one, but you'll have fun. Come on!"

"Not tonight," she said with finality. Not ever, she added silently to herself. Mickey had been one of her least favorite characters in the show. It took several episodes for her to warm up to him. If this followed the show's storyline, it would be a while before Mickey became someone she considered worthy of respect.

"Oh, alright then," he said, sounding put out. "You probably need to sleep and all that."

"Yeah," she said, then added as an afterthought, forcing her voice to be light, "Thanks for checking in."

"Of course. I've gotta go. Love you."

A stifling few seconds of quiet followed, a silence she knew she was supposed to fill with a simple love you, too, but she couldn't bring herself to say it back. "Right," she said instead. "Talk to you later then." She pressed the End button before he could say anything else. She expelled a huge breath and tucked Rose's phone in her pocket, figuring she may need it later.

"Well, that was more like it," Jackie said, looking somewhat relieved. "That was more like my Rose. When are you going to end it with that poor boy?"

Zoe swung wide hazel-green eyes to her. That was new. Were Mickey and Rose experiencing relationship problems before the Doctor's arrival in the show? She couldn't remember. "I...I need to tell him in person. It's not right to break up over the phone."

Jackie raised an eyebrow at her. "Dangling him on the hook ain't right either, love." She sighed then and added, "Well, I'm tuckered out. I think I'll head to bed early. See yourself out, Doctor?" Her eyes promised physical harm on his person if he even tried to stay the night at the flat with her daughter.

He flashed her a huge grin. "Right-o."

She narrowed her eyes at his cheerful demeanor, but she turned her back on him and trudged down the hall toward her room anyway. The moment her back was turned, the Doctor's smile fell away and his eyes lost their mischievous glint.

Zoe frowned to herself, watching Rose's mother retreating form. For a moment back there, she'd thought Jackie was starting to realize she was not in fact her daughter, Rose, yet an awkward phone call with Mickey had convinced her otherwise.

The familiar sound of the screwdriver warbling to her left snapped Zoe's attention away from Jackie to the Doctor. He was pulling his arm back with the screwdriver in tow, and she understood too well in that instant what he'd done. She just couldn't understand why.

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Did you just scan Jackie?" she whispered a moment before she heard the bedroom door close with an audible click.

The Doctor glanced up from the screwdriver's readings to give her a look. "Yes."

"May I ask why?"

He returned his gaze to the screwdriver, a frown forming on his brow from whatever readings he saw there.

"The pictures on your dresser in your room," he said after a moment, tearing his gaze away from the screwdriver to look at her. "Those were definitely pictures of your uncle and mother. There's a distinct resemblance between you and them that can't be faked." He glanced at the family photos decorating the west wall of the flat, showing off the real Rose. "I may have been a tad rash. I'm not saying I'm convinced you're from a different universe. Definitely not. But that," pointing in the direction of Jackie's room, "that is definitely not your mother, but she's convinced you're her daughter." He waved the screwdriver under her nose. "Looks aside, you don't have a single thing in common with her. DNA included. She's just an ordinary human, and let's not forget Rickey, you are way too smart to have a stupid ape like him as a boyfriend."

He tucked his screwdriver into his inside jacket pocket. "Something is going on here," he murmured.

Relief flooded through her. He may not believe she came from a different universe, but he'd at least found tangible proof that she didn't belong here. That she really is a Zoe and not a Rose. "That's what I've been trying to tell you," she said in a rush. "I woke up here in Rose's room yesterday morning, but everyone who's met Rose thinks I'm her. I don't know how I got here or why or where Rose is."

The Doctor scoffed. "You're not from another world, but it certainly does seem like you've been dropped into someone else's life."

"So that's possible, but traveling between universes is a stretch," Zoe said with little humor. "Right."

Well, at least he figured out this much so far. Unfortunately, they still didn't know how she'd gotten here, where the real Rose was, and why everyone thought she was Rose. Until then, she supposed she was stuck here…

She looked around the small flat, knowing she would be expected to live Rose's life for her. Get a different job what with Nickie's getting blow up. She supposed she should snoop around Rose's room to see if she was going to university under her mother's nose like she suspected.

Even as she contemplated staying, she found herself horrified by the very thought of living someone else's life. If she was living Rose's life, who would live Zoe's life? So when she saw the Doctor heading for the front door, seemingly ready to leave her behind in a life that wasn't her own, she hurried after him.

"Wait. Where are you going? Take me with you!"

The Doctor paused with his hand on the doorknob and looked over his shoulder back at her. His steel blue eyes filled with an intense empathy that stunned her. Here was a man who knew what it was like to stand in a crowd, be seen, and perceived to be someone he wasn't. He also knew what it was like to be forced into a situation you didn't ask for. But his understanding gaze was also tinged with sympathy, and the last thing she wanted in that moment was for the Time Lord to feel sorry for her.

"Zoe," he started hesitantly.

"Doctor, please," she said. "You need me. I know where the Nestene Consciousness is."

"I can find it on my own just fine."

"You don't have to do it alone."

The Doctor shook his head. "You don't know what you're asking."

She jutted her chin up and pointed at herself. "Psychic here, or so you'd like me to believe."

He stared her down, his expression similar to his future self's Oncoming Storm, causing goosebumps to prickle along her forearms. "This is about more than just your safety - which I cannot guarantee if you come with me - if I'm right, and I'm almost always right, you know too much about future events. Telling me where the Nestene Consciousness is before I'm meant to know could be disastrous and change events too far from their natural order."

Zoe bit her lip, feeling what she thought a criminal must feel when they're about to confess to murder. "The timeline has already changed," she said before she could convince herself to hide the truth.

The Doctor froze. "What?"

"Everything is different because I'm here," she said fast. "The timeline I know has her. Rose Tyler." She nodded to the pictures of Rose and her mother on the wall. She glanced uneasily down the hall to Jackie's room before adding in a lower voice, "And she's missing. And for some reason, I'm here instead. I'm here, and she's not, and it's changed everything. You were supposed to run away from the Autons with Rose, not me. She worked in that shop, the one you blew up, not me. I knew that if I 'worked' there, you'd eventually show up. I'm just so relieved you arrived as fast as you did."

She took a breath, bracing herself to say what she'd realized earlier. "The arm."

The Doctor who had been silently listening, his expression growing graver with every word out of her mouth, paused, thrown by the seemingly abrupt topic change. "Arm? What arm?"

"The plastic one that attacked us in the elevator. It escaped the building before the explosion in the timeline I know. You were tracking the arm to use it to find the Nestene Consciousness. Because of me, you don't even have that. The arm got sucked into some sort of melted plastic monster instead." She felt her face scrunch up at the memory.

"Auton," the Doctor said automatically.

"Right. And that Auton didn't happen before. That was new," Zoe said, repeating what he'd said earlier. "New, new."

For reasons beyond Zoe's understanding, the Doctor's face lit up as if he finally understood something. He grinned at her, his smile shiny and bright and shocking in context. "This changes things then," he said, grabbing her arm and opening the front door in one go.

"Changes what?"

"Everything," the Doctor said. "You're coming with me."

Wondering if it was possible to experience verbal whiplash, Zoe asked in a daze, "What changed your mind? Not that I'm complaining."

"I'm dangerous, yeah, but you might be just as dangerous, Zoe Peyton. Better you stick with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have weird feelings about this chapter, but overall, I'm satisfied. Needless to say, it wasn't as exciting as the one before, but it was important and needed to happen before we dived into the next mini-adventure waiting for the Doctor and Zoe.
> 
> Please let me know what you think. Your reviews are my life-sustenance.
> 
> For this chapter's question, answer me this...
> 
> What's a weird or unique eating habit you have or know about?
> 
> I personally have a weird eating habit. Or, I'm told it's weird anyway. I like to dip my Oreos in milk (that's not the weird part). If milk cannot be found, I will resort to dipping them in water rather than eating them dry. I just prefer my Oreos to be moist. Weird or not weird - what's your verdict?


	6. Shapeshifter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. My mom was in town and it was my daughter's birthday this past week. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm pretty excited to hear your thoughts on it. :)

Zoe braced herself against the railing while the Doctor raced around the console room, pushing buttons and yanking on levers seemingly without thought. Listening to the TARDIS take off with its grinding wheeze, she felt torn between extreme relief, confusion and guilt. Relief that she wouldn't be left behind to live a lie and confusion over the Doctor's unexpected change of heart. Honestly, he looked like someone who'd been let in on a big secret. She wish he would clue her in. (When she asked how she was 'dangerous,' he only deflected and started talking about the evolution of different aliens.)

Then there was the storm cloud of guilt hanging over her head. It seemed to double in size after she'd left Rose's mom behind without any explanation. She'd remembered to grab her tan blanket, her last physical reminder of August from her world, but she couldn't figure out how she could explain to Jackie why she was leaving. If she can't accept the truth she's not Rose, there's no way she'd accept her running off with a Time Lord.

The TARDIS shook and groaned around her, resonating a deep wheezing sound that seemed to vibrate her bones from the inside-out. She shoved her inner turmoil aside, unwilling and unequipped to deal with it right now. She told herself she'd bring Rose home, straight back to the exact moment she left with the Doctor. Jackie would never know her daughter was missing.

The time-traveling ship shuddered to a jerk as it landed. The force of the landing threatened to knock Zoe off her feet, and it was only her secure grip on the rail that kept her from flying across the room.

The Doctor recovered faster from the landing and dashed to the other side of the console, pulling a screen full of Gallifreyan text towards him. The green light of the console cast his face in harsh shadows.

"She did it," he said. "She didn't like it, but she did it. Brought us right under the London Eye, and at midnight like you asked. Most people should be home asleep with the stores closed for the night." He tore his gaze from the Gallifreyan symbols to turn to a dark screen. He tapped a couple red buttons, and the screen lit up with a picture of what looked like an underground cellar with an open vat of frothy lava. The fiery orange liquid lit up the room, casting half the room in dancing shadows. "And there it is, the Nestene Consciousness, just like you said it would be. Right there inside that vat, a living plastic creature."

"Won't it see us?" Zoe asked. "Know we're here?"

"The TARDIS has cloaked herself. It won't know we're here until we want it to."

"Doctor, what exactly do you plan to do?"

"Negotiate with it, of course."

"And if that fails?"

He pulled out the vial of anti-plastic from his jacket to show her before re-pocketing a moment later. "I've got insurance, but you knew that already. You know exactly what this is."

"Anti-plastic," she said a tad impatiently. Her brow drew together, her mouth drawing into a thin line. "But Doctor, there isn't any negotiating with it," she said. "It wants to kill the human race!"

"Maybe," the Doctor said easily, but added with a lazy shrug, "Then again maybe not. Things have changed with your introduction into the time stream. This could turn out different, too."

She opened her mouth to argue further but closed it when she realized he was right. The conversation with the Nestene Consciousness could go down completely different than it did on the show. Then her mind reminded her of an important fact. "You can't ignore it's been hostile though. It sent those things after me."

"Oh, so now everything is about you?"

Zoe rolled her eyes and huffed. She barely suppressed the urge to cross her arms. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. One of the Autons killed a girl! Her name was Vicki. She was innocent, and, and…" She covered her mouth as the emotions she'd been suppressing overwhelmed her. "She was still in the building when the bomb went off, and I just left her there," she whispered. She looked at the Doctor's pained expression at hearing someone had died on his watch. "I forgot her. Her body was left to burn, and I forgot her."

She must have looked like an emotional wreck at this realization because the Doctor hesitated only a fraction of a second before pulling Zoe into a tight hug. She stiffened at the sudden contact, but she melted into the hug when her senses were overwhelmed by the Doctor. He was all warmth and cool leather.

"You couldn't have done anything," he said, rubbing her back in a soothing gesture. "We were surrounded by gun-happy Autons, running was our only option. Survival is one of the most ingrained primal instincts, even Time Lords have them."

"She didn't deserve that though," she said, her voice muffled slightly by his jacket. "I tried to get her to leave. I should have done more. I should have - "

"It's not your fault," the Doctor cut off her self-incriminations, unconsciously tightening his hold on her. "It's mine." She couldn't see his face, but he sounded furious with himself. "The Nestene sent a signal, alerting its soldiers that I was coming."

She pulled back to look into his stormy eyes. In this moment, it was easy to see the Doctor had lived several lifetimes. His eyes wore the look of a man who has seen and done too much. Guilt and responsibility swirled in their depths like streaks of lightning in a thunderstorm, the remnants of the Time War. She decided she didn't like what she saw.

She forced herself to laugh and tease him like Rose had in the show. "Oh, so now everything is about you?"

The Doctor released her from the hug as if lightning had struck him. "Yes!"

Zoe couldn't help it, she giggled for real this time. The Doctor looked genuinely affronted at the thought the universe didn't revolve around him.

"Oi!" the Doctor said, wagging at his finger at her, even as he started to grin.

Her giggle evolved into full-on laughter, and the Doctor joined her after a moment. She laughed at the absolute insanity of her situation and the absurdity of their conversation. She was on the TARDIS under the London Eye with The Doctor preparing to face down a liquefied plastic alien in a vat. What had become of her life?

Her laughter dwindled at the same time as the Doctor. "I see what you did there. Using humor to distract me. Clever girl."

She smiled, but brushed the compliment aside with her hand. She didn't feel particularly clever. The guilt over Vicki hadn't quite subsided, but she pushed it back down into the same corner of her mind she'd banished her guilt over August, Rose, and Jackie.

Two loud knocks against the TARDIS doors drew both the Doctor and Zoe's attention, but a glance at the surveillance footage on the monitor showed nothing outside the entrance.

"Stay in the TARDIS. I'll be back."

"Fat chance! I'm coming with you," Zoe said, following him close behind.

"You'll be safer inside the TARDIS," he began, but when he caught her determined stare, he heaved a sigh. "Oh, alright," he said, "but follow my lead."

The Doctor opened the TARDIS doors in one forceful move that sent the blue doors swinging, nearly crashing full-force into its frame. They stepped outside, the doors closing behind them with a secure click. Upon finding no one waiting for them, no one with the ability to knock on the TARDIS doors, that simple click seemed almost ominous.

The heated orange glow splashed shadows across the steel staircases. A heavy steam emanated from the living plastic creature writhing in the vat with what she imagined was impatience. She paused at the feeling of animosity and ill-intent she sensed emanating from it.

The Doctor showed no sign of sharing her hesitation. He showed every sign of sweeping across the floor in long strides until he stood right on the edge of the platform looking down on the Nestene Consciousness. She tugged on the sleeve of his leather jacket, stopping him before he could do exactly that. "Doctor, please wait," she said, anxiety pitching her voice higher than normal. "Something's not right."

He shrugged her hand off gently, giving her a look she supposed was meant to be reassuring. "It'll be OK," he said, "you'll see. But I've got to give it a chance first."

The Time Lord turned away from her to address the Nestene Consciousness in a loud, authoritative voice. "I seek audience with the Nestene Consciousness under peaceful contract according to convention 15 of the Shadow Proclamation."

As if it had been waiting for this address, the living plastic bubbled and stirred until a mound of liquid plastic rose up like a small hill. Plastic liquid dripped down its sides, leaving impressions in the mound until a humanoid figure seemed to be carved from it.

Zoe's blue eyes widened at the sight, her breathing growing shallow, as her heart stuttered in her chest. In her peripheral vision, she saw the Doctor's startled expression, reminding her of a doe caught in the headlights. Like the monster Auton back on the department store's roof, this was something new, something unexpected to the Time Lord. What was her presence doing to this reality? Why was everything the same, yet so different? Or was it always like this, and the show had it wrong?

The Nestene appeared to stand tall and confident, its posture almost regal. Its face reminded her of a mannequin's, smooth and blank, except for the indents carved out to indicate eyes and a mouth that stretched across its face like a not-quite-smile. It was one of the creepiest sights Zoe had ever seen.

The Nestene raised a melting hand in a placating gesture as if to say, _Go on_.

The Doctor seemed to take it that way as he smiled and said, "Thank you. If I might have permission to approach." When the Nestene's head nodded, or in the semblance of a nod, the plastic shifting in on itself to imitate movement, he returned the nod once and crossed the final steps across the platform to stand directly above the vat.

"If I might observe, you infiltrated this civilization by means of war shunt technology, so may I suggest with the greatest respect that you shunt off."

Zoe resisted the urge to cover her face, feeling worn out. This was the Doctor's way of giving it a chance? By antagonizing it? Is this what he said in the show, too? She couldn't remember. Watching the show had been a whirlwind experience. She knew the general details, but some of the specifics evaded her.

The figure's mouth opened wide, melting plastic stretching between what would have been its lips had it been human. To her surprise, a scratchy rumbling voice sounded through them, and she realized with a start that the TARDIS was translating for her. Unlike Rose in the show, she'd traveled in TARDIS before the confrontation with the Nestene Consciousness, even if only briefly. "We are exercising our galactic constitutional right to recover and rescue resources unappreciated and abused by a lower species. We are -"

"Oh, don't give me that!" the Doctor said outraged. "It's an invasion, plain and simple. Come talk about constitutional rights."

"Earth has everything our people need!" the Nestene said. "All this smoke, oil, and pollution for the taking. These inferior humans -"

"I. Am. Talking!"

The Nestene's imitation of a mouth snapped shut, the plastic melting into each other until only the wide indent remained. It may have been a trick of the light, but she would swear there was a hard glint to its indented eyes.

She forced herself to look away from it. That's when she caught movement behind her, back where the TARDIS waited for them. "Doctor," she called in alarm.

"Not now, Zoe," the Time Lord said, sparing only a glance at her before turning his full attention back to the Nestene. "You must know, must have realized, that these stupid little people have only just learned how to walk, and, and…"

His words faltered as he took in the living plastic figure rapidly growing in size, his eyes following its growth up and up and up until the creature towered over him. He started to inch back, even as he continued in a more subdued voice, "And they're capable of so much more…"

The Nestene figure began to stretch and morph, bubbling over into something different, the orange liquid-plastic expanding at a rapid rate before the Doctor's eyes.

"So, so I'm asking you…"

Its ambiguous face melted and reformed into a sharp, angular head with horns and sharp teeth.

"I'm asking on their behalf…"

The living plastic creature's body tripled in size, right as horned tail shot out from its back and hot plastic wings erupted, fanning out at its sides. The Nestene had morphed itself into the semblance of a dragon, red hot plastic rippling down its body like gleaming, mutated scales.

"Please just go," the Doctor finished, his voice seeming small beneath the monstrous form hovering over him.

The dragon-imitation ripped open its face, jagged teeth dripping plastic-like drool, and roared. The scent of burnt plastic carried on the heatwave of the Nestene's roar. Like the giant Auton, plastic spittle flew down on them like fiery rain. They didn't need the TARDIS to translate for them to know the living plastic creature's answer was a decisive NO.

"Doctor!" Zoe cried out, and the Doctor finally looked back and saw what she'd tried to call his attention to earlier.

Mannequins walking in drones, coming down the staircases along the walls to surround the TARDIS, which was no longer cloaked, the vivid blue box a bright spot in a dark room. A few of the mannequins were wearing wedding dresses and black-tie suits she recognized from the show. Broken glass clung to their outfits, and she knew they must have broken through their stores' display windows to come here. Zoe could only hope no one had been attacked by the mannequins on the way here and wondered absently how many stores at the nearest mall would find their window mannequins missing tomorrow morning.

Zoe ran up to the Doctor, grabbing his hand, and tried to tug him away, but the stubborn Time Lord resisted her pull. "Come on. We need to go."

As he turned his face up to the Nestene's current form, she saw he was already grieving for the living plastic creature. "What have you done? I wasn't here to attack you! I wanted to help."

"Doctor, what's happening?" she asked him quietly.

He shifted his gaze to hers for a moment, but only a moment, returning it back to the threat in front of them, though he did tug her closer to him as if his proximity alone could protect her from the threat surrounding them. "The TARDIS. The Nestene has identified it as superior technology. It's terrified. It's initiated the final phase."

The Nestene-dragon growled, the sound rumbling from low in its make-shift throat. "I know who you are, Time Lord. You destroyed our nutrient planets. You are responsible for our predicament."

"No, no, that's not true. I was there, but I tried to stop it."

"You are an enemy to the Nestene," it declared.

"I don't have to be," he said. "You have a choice. Stand down now, leave this planet, and I will show you mercy."

The Nestene-dragon lowered its head until its glowing fire-red indents for eyes were leveled with the Doctor's and an empty laugh escaped like a hiss. "Mercy? After everything you've done, would have done, you would show us mercy?"

Two Autons seized Zoe and the Doctor from behind. They struggled against the firm grip of the mannequins holding them, as the Auton holding the Doctor slipped its hand into his inner jacket pocket and pulled the anti-plastic out from its hiding place. Zoe's hope for a different outcome sank with her heart, as it held their only means of escape high above its head.

The Nestene's sharp-angled head snapped up to consider the incriminating evidence. "And what would you call this?"

"That was just insurance," the Doctor said fast. "I wasn't going to use it."

Zoe struggled harder in the Auton's arms when she realized she was going about this all wrong. The Auton holding the Anti-plastic was standing right next to her, after all. She kicked at its legs with as much force as she could muster, just barely missing the Doctor's own. Not expecting it, the Auton stumbled letting go of the Doctor and sending the anti-plastic spinning across the floor. The vial stopped right at the edge of the platform. Just a little further, Zoe despaired, and it would have fallen right into the vat.

"Get the weapon!" the Nestene commanded. To her amazement, the Auton holding her released her in its haste to obey and go after the anti-plastic. The one that had been holding the Doctor followed soon after. In fact, the whole horde of Autons guarding the TARDIS started to move in sync with each other in the direction the anti-plastic, leaving the ship unguarded.

"Zoe, run! Get to the TARDIS," the Doctor ordered.

She found herself moving forward until her heart caught up with her head. She jolted in place, her legs taut like the spring in a trap, ready to hurtle toward the TARDIS, at the same time her head and torso turned toward the Doctor. "I can't just leave you."

The Doctor fixed her with a firm stare. "You have to. I'll get the anti-plastic. You were right, the Nestene has to be stopped."

"But I can help!"

"No, you've done enough. Now go! I want you safe."

A roar from directly behind them interrupted Zoe's ready retort. They both looked back to see one pissed-off Nestene-dragon flapping its plastic hardened wings, sending a rush of hot air blazing right at them.

"No!" it hissed. "I will not allow you to leave, Time Lord. You will be absorbed, and your knowledge, your ship, will become ours. With your last breath, you will help us conquer this planet."

The Doctor shook his head, the glimmer of grief and pain and anger she glimpsed earlier had returned to his eyes full-force. "Now I know without a doubt you're beyond my help."

"Seize him!" the Nestene commanded the Autons.

Zoe and the Doctor braced themselves to be attacked, but all of the mannequins actually halted in their steps, their progress toward the anti-plastic abandoned, as their arms and legs began to jerk and twitch in place.

"The Nestene's sending mixed signals," the Doctor said in wonder, a small grin forming, as he looked around curiously. "They're torn between two opposing commands: to retrieve the anti-plastic and to capture me. It's causing the Autons to malfunction." The Doctor's grin spread from ear to ear. "Fantastic!"

"No!" the Nestene howled, seeing its error too late, and twisted around to swipe its powerful tail at them.

Zoe saw it coming, but the Doctor wasn't looking at the Nestene, his gaze intent on the vial of anti-plastic. "Doctor, watch out!"

Without thinking, she shoved him out of the tail's incoming path and screamed as a blistering, bone-deep heat knocked her down, vivid orange ooze clinging to her jeans. The liquid plastic seemed to burn through the thin fabric to her skin. Distantly she thought she heard the Doctor calling her name, there was a desperate edge to his voice that begged for a response, but she couldn't find it in her to answer. Her thoughts were hyper-focused on the terrifying sensation of a blowtorch scorching her legs from the inside-out. She felt herself begin to hyperventilate, her hands a trembling mess above her burning flesh.

She heard the Doctor say something to the Nestene. She couldn't make out what he said, but the words sounded harsh and merciless to her ears. Then came the condemning warble of the screwdriver. As a shrill scream surrounded them on all sides, she felt the Doctor lift her into his arms bridal-style, carrying her swiftly to the TARDIS. Autons were falling left and right into hapless piles on the cement floor at the edge of her dimming vision.

"I've got you, Zoe," she heard the Doctor say, as her vision gave way to black. "Hold on."

The last sound she heard was the swoosh of the TARDIS doors opening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how did I do? This was really fun to write, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on what's happening and why everything is different from the show. Please review! And thank you for those who have reviewed. Your reviews seriously make my day.
> 
> With Halloween around the corner, the question for this chapter is obvious:
> 
> If you're dressing up for Halloween, what's your costume?
> 
> I have a Gryffindor Hogwarts robe (which is funny, really, because I'm a Slytherclaw - sorted in Slytherin and Ravenclaw in two different instances by the official Wizarding World quiz.). All I need is a wand (I used to have one, but it snapped in half last year. T_T ), and I'll be a witch.
> 
> Bonus question: If you're a Harry Potter fan and you've done the Sorting House quiz, what house were you sorted in?


	7. Fate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Life's been crazy busy, and I've been under a bit of stress dealing with it. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

The first sensation Zoe became aware of as she slowly returned to consciousness was the cold, smooth flat surface underneath her. The second was how her legs felt heavy, as if something was weighing them down. She tried to open her eyes and found the task near impossible. She felt so tired that her eyelids seem to have weights holding them down. With great effort, her eyelids fluttered open, and she startled at seeing the Doctor's face hovering over hers, staring at her with an intensity that would have embarrassed her if she didn't feel so groggy and out of sorts.

"Doctor?" she asked, and promptly frowned. Her voice sounded scratchy from disuse.

"Why hello there, sleeping beauty," the Doctor quipped with a growing grin.

She swallowed and her dry throat ached from the movement. "What happened?" Or that's what she meant to ask, but it came out sounding more like wha' hap'ne.

The Doctor noticed and slapped his forehead. "Oh, water! Of course, hang on a sec…"

He disappeared from her immediate vision, and she found it worrying that she couldn't turn her head to see where he went. He reappeared a moment later with a glass of water in his hands and put a straw in her mouth. She sucked on the straw greedily, unable to believe how delicious and refreshing the cool water was. After she drained the entire cup, the Doctor pulled the glass back and put it down on what she could only presume, without seeing it, was a bedside table. She heard the cup lightly smack against what sounded like a metal surface.

She cleared her throat and tried to speak again and was pleased that she sounded more like herself this time. "What happened? Why can't I move?"

"That's the lingering effects of the healing chamber," the Doctor explained. "It's kept you in stasis while you've been healing, should wear off in a minute or so." Then almost like an afterthought, he added, "You're in the TARDIS' medical wing."

True to his word, she could turn her neck after a minute and the weight on her legs seemed to be decreasing with every moment that passed. Facing the Doctor now, she could see he had his arms folded, and except for the tension in his shoulders, he looked almost relaxed and at home sitting on a nearby stool. The walls around them were white and sterile, though it had a metallic sheen that even the most modern hospitals lacked. "How long have I been in here?"

The Doctor shifted uneasily in his seat, and she knew before he said it the answer wouldn't be good. "You've been in stasis for a week." Her mind stuttered to a halt at the ramifications of this. She'd lost a week of her life. He seemed to understand her need for more information, because he explained without further prompting. "The damage to your legs from contact with the Nestene Consciousness was extensive." His expression darkened considerably then. "I can't decide if that was extremely brave or stupid of you, jumping in front of me like that." He leaned forward then, giving her an impressive glare. "Let's get something straight, right here, right now. Next time we're faced by sentient, freaky shapeshifting, liquid-plastic creature, and it's a choice between diving in front of me or letting me get hit by its molten hot tail, you let me get hit."

Zoe stared at him, mouth gaping open and doing her best to ignore how much his words hurt her. "You would rather I had let that tail swipe you?"

"Yes!"

Taken back by the strength of his outburst, Zoe could only lay there for a minute, feeling upset and confused at first until she couldn't take it anymore and swallowed the unwelcome feelings down. August didn't want to let her help him either. Finally she bit out, "I won't apologize for saving your life."

"I save people. Other people don't save me!"

"Everyone needs to be saved by others sometimes."

"I would have been fine without your interference," he retorted. At her disbelieving look, he rolled his eyes. "One way or another I would have lived. If not me, a different version of me. I'm a Time Lord. I have regenerative powers. You on the other hand..." He swiped his face wearily with his hand. "If you'd been anyone else, you'd have died. You almost did die."

Zoe scrunched her brows together, catching the odd way he'd worded that. "If I'd been anyone else? What does that mean?"

"Don't worry about that right now," the Doctor said firmly, but he kept his gaze averted, focused on a screen she realized hung above her bed, showing what she assumed were her vitals. Like the screens in the console, everything was in Gallifreyan. "Focus on getting back on your feet first."

"What happened to the Nestene Consciousness?" she asked after a moment, still feeling baffled by whatever the Doctor wasn't telling her. Her memory flashed back to when he had blocked her view of one of the screens on her first day in the TARDIS. She thought he had been hiding information from her then. Could this be related somehow? What exactly was on that screen?

"The Nestene is dead," he said without hesitation, his voice held a sharp edge. "I used the Sonic Screwdriver to send a blast of hot air, and the force of it sent the anti-plastic over the edge into the vat. Without the Nestene to give out orders, the Autons reverted back to just plastic. Crisis averted, the Earth saved, and stupid apes free to live another day in ignorance."

She absorbed this information quietly, feeling this certainly matched up with what she could remember when she'd been fighting to hold onto consciousness. Her thoughts shifted to the Autons merging into a giant monster and the Nestene Consciousness shapeshifting into a dragon. That definitely didn't happen on the show. With all the distinct differences she's seen, she couldn't help, but wonder whether the changes had less to do with her presence or more to do with this reality. Maybe the _Doctor Who_ universe was just that more dangerous than what they could safely show on TV. "Doctor?"

His eyes, which had been hard, glimmering pools of suppressed rage at the deceased Nestene Consciousness, softened upon looking at her. "Yes, Zoe?"

"Was that normal? The Nestene shapeshifting, I mean. Was that something you expected?"

To her surprise, he became alert at her question, straightening in his seat to stare at her intently. "Was it unexpected for you?"

"Yes," she said softly, fiddling with her t-shirt's hem. The feeling in her arms and legs were returning the longer they stayed there. "It's like the Autons merging together, that didn't happen on the show." She ignored how he heaved a long-suffering sigh at the mention of _Doctor Who_ and stubbornly continued, "The Nestene I remember couldn't - or at least didn't - change forms. It just looked like a grumbling, grumpy lava blob that could talk."

The Doctor's mouth gave an amused twitch at her description of the Nestene Consciousness, but his furrowed brow told her he was working something out in that brilliant, arrogant Time Lord brain of his. After a moment, his expression brightened. Whatever he'd realized though, he seemed to decide to keep to himself like always, because with a big grin, he simply said, "Never seen a thing like it. Nestene aren't known for shapeshifting, but I suppose they will be from now on."

Something about his wording struck her as funny, but she couldn't see the entire puzzle piece to know how it fit in the big picture. "You're holding something back. I can tell," she said. "I'm going to figure out what it is eventually you know."

He looked taken aback for a moment, but then appeared pleased that she'd caught on before giving her a mischievous grin. "I would hope so, or you're not as clever as I thought."

She mock-gasped. "I'll have you know I'm more than clever, I'm a bonafide genius."

"Says the one who thinks I'm a fictional character."

"Well, obviously not you," Zoe said, crossing her arms, and then lifting a shoulder in a casual shrug, "but your alternate ego..." She let the sentence trail off meaningfully.

"Right," the Doctor said dryly, looking torn between amusement and annoyance. "Looks like you have full-control of your body now."

Zoe found he was right, and pushed herself into a sitting position to look at her legs. Relief was a heady rush at seeing her legs whole, the skin an unexpected shiny, healthy pink. It was an alarming feeling to realize the skin was brand new, and then she took in what she was wearing and heat rushed to her face. The whole time they'd been talking, she'd been sitting in front of the Doctor wearing only a white t-shirt and plain, black panties, and to make matters worse, she was cold...

"Doctor," she said, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes tight against the mortification. "Get out."

The Doctor looked up, alarmed by her hostile tone. "What?"

"I said get out. I'm not wearing a..." Zoe faltered, unwilling to say the word bra out loud. How exactly was her bra removed in the first place? The thought of the Doctor helping her out of it just made her angrier. It better have been the TARDIS using some weird futuristic technology. "Just give me some privacy," she said tightly.

"Oh," the Doctor said, then his eyebrows shot up his forehead. "Ohhh! Right. Um, I'll just step outside then, shall I?" Avoiding her gaze, his pink ears and neck a near match for her rosy flushed cheeks as he walked through the exit. The TARDIS swiftly closed the door behind him, earning no small amount of gratitude from Zoe.

She looked around the medical wing in search of her clothes and when she didn't see them or any places they could've been stored, she sighed, glancing down at her undress fretfully. How was she going to get to her room to change without running into the Doctor? Not that he hadn't already seen her like this...

Seeming to have heard her thoughts, the TARDIS beeped once, a friendly and sympathetic sound, to get her attention. When she looked up, she saw some folded clothes and a pair of bright blue running shoes sitting on the counter next to the chamber, as if they had been waiting for her to notice them.

Zoe's face lit up and she scrambled out of the chamber. She stumbled at first, her legs feeling a bit unsteady, but she managed to walk the three steps needed to reach the offered clothing. "Thank you so much," she said to the TARDIS, taking in the short-sleeve black t-shirt and dark blue jeans.

She laughed out loud when she saw the quote on her shirt laid out in big, bold, gold letters, and she sensed the TARDIS laughing with her. It was a quote from the 11th Doctor.

I'm Being  
Incredibly  
CLEVER  
Up Here, And There's  
NO ONE  
To Stand Around  
LOOKING  
Impressed!

Chuckles subsiding at what she now saw as an inside joke with the TARDIS. She turned her attention to what was sitting next to it. Bless her, there was a clean black bra and underwear for her to wear.

Feeling the chill from the metallic floor - _why was everything in this room made of metal?_ \- she was quick to pull everything on, relishing in having her legs and feet covered. Her skin was extra sensitive to the feeling of denim, but she figured she'd get used to it. She laced up her new Nike shoes, pleased that the TARDIS knew her favorite color, and finding it oddly fitting that she'd chosen something Zoe could easily run in. She had a feeling she'd be with the Doctor for a while and running was a known hazard of being his companion. She froze mid-tying up the lace of her right shoe at the thought. She hadn't really thought about it since she woke up in Rose's house, but everyone would see her as the Doctor's companion now.

 _Weird_ , she thought and finished tying her shoelaces up.

After using the facilities to freshen up, she was ready to see the Doctor, but she hesitated at the medical bay's door. Still feeling lingering feelings of embarrassment at the Doctor seeing her so under dressed. She sighed, shaking it off like she did everything else. He didn't even seem to notice until she pointed it out anyways. She couldn't stay in the medical wing forever, and if she wanted to get back home, back to August to find out what happened to him, she'd have to see the Doctor some time soon.

She stepped through the door, and the immediate hall, dark and open, disappeared in front of her eyes. In an instant, it was replaced by the console room. The sudden disappearance of the hall and appearance of the Doctor floating around the controls disoriented her for a few seconds, but she managed to get her bearings by the time she reached him, wobbling only slightly on her feet.

Now that she was closer she could see the Doctor wasn't so much as floating, as he was fidgeting with the controls. He looked up at the sound of her approaching steps and offered an awkward smile as a peace offering. "Glad to see you managed to find the console so quickly."

"I had help," she said.

"You did?" he said, scrunching his brow. "She must really like you. I once had a companion that would wander the halls for hours before the TARDIS would have mercy and dump them here."

Zoe shrugged, feeling uncomfortable speculating what the TARDIS may or may not think about her. "Are we going somewhere?" she asked.

"Would you be up for it so soon? You only just got out of stasis," the Doctor said, but he couldn't hide how much he hoped she would be. A sympathetic pang shot through her. She could only imagine how bored he'd been, stuck on the ship, waiting for her to recover in the stasis chamber.

"My legs feel a little funny, but I feel fine overall. I'm up for a bit of exploring, if you are."

The Doctor full-on grinned at her and started dancing around the console, flipping levers and punching buttons as he went. His happy, ecstatic energy was contagious and she found herself grinning back. "Right then, Zoe Peyton, you tell me. Where do you want to go, backwards or forwards?"

Those words sounded so familiar to her she frowned at first, thinking she was experiencing some sort of deja vu. Until she realized exactly where she'd heard those words before. He'd said the near exact same thing to Rose after she'd agreed to travel with him for the first time.

The Doctor noticed her sudden lack of enthusiasm and slowed to a halt in front of her. "What's wrong? Are you feeling alright?"

"We can't go to the past," she told him. "We have to go to the future. To the end of the world."

His expression darkened at her words, catching to what she meant. "Is that what happens in your show, Rose chooses to go to the future?"

Zoe nodded, unsurprised the Doctor caught on so fast, and hurried to explain. "You wanted to impress her, so you took her to the day the Earth dies. That's where you're needed next. If you aren't there, people will die."

"Zoe," he said, shaking his head with an exaggerated patience that irked her. "We don't have to go anywhere."

"But -"

The Doctor held up his hand, stopping her short. "You're not listening," he said sharply. "You think that what happened on your show was the original timeline," she could hear the implied finger quotes around the word show, "and that your presence here is changing the natural order of events, but that's not what's happening. I peeked at the time stream while you were in stasis, and this is the original timeline. You could tell me something is supposed to happen, and we could do something to 'change' it." He used finger quotes around the word change. "But the actual event that occurs due to our actions would be what would have happened all along." He smiled then. "Nothing is being altered by your presence here. You were always meant to be here. With me."

"I...what?" Zoe spluttered. "But I don't belong here! This isn't my universe. What about Rose? August and Mads?"

The Doctor surprised her by gripping her by the shoulders, so he could look her straight in the eyes. The unexpected physical contact silenced her. She drew in a shaky breath, and forced herself to keep looking into his expressive blue eyes, brimming with compassion and understanding. "I don't know anything about Rose. She's not here, you are," he said. "And I'm sorry about your family, I really am. I'll do everything I can to get you home, back to them wherever that may be..." His speech trailed off. He seemed to want to say something else, but was stopping himself from saying anything further.

"What are you hiding?" she asked, frustration flaring to life inside her. She jabbed an accusing finger at his chest. "You know something that you're not telling me."

He gave a curt shake of his head. "I won't say until I know for sure."

"So you admit it," she said, her voice dull. The flame sputtering out as quickly as it ignited.

"It's for the best. If I'm wrong, you'd be hurt for nothing."

She studied his serious expression. "Is it that bad?"

He dropped his eyes, seeming to consider his next words carefully, before lifting his gaze back to hers. "I think that'll depend on you." They stared at one another for what felt like hours until the Doctor cleared his throat and dropping his hands from her shoulders, taking a measured step back. "Anyways," he began, "the point is we can travel whenever, wherever we want. If we're meant to go to the end of the world, it'll happen, but it doesn't have to happen right now. And I'll prove it to you by taking you into the past."

The Doctor hurried over to the console, punching a couple buttons, so they lit up, flashing red and green in spinning bright whirls of light. He spun on his heels to look at her, spreading his arms out wide in an unspoken challenge. "So here's the question, Zoe Peyton, how far into the past do you want to go?"

Zoe gripped her left arm with her right hand, digging her fingernails into her bicep painfully, and shook her head. "I don't think this is a good idea. What if we never end up going to see the end of the world, never meet Cassandra, never stop her from burning up the space shuttle," the Doctor's eyebrows lift at the new, unexpected details, "Everyone would die. For all we know, we need to go right now in order to save them."

"And for all we know, everything could be fine," he retorted. "Your insight into the future isn't perfect, not everything happened back under the London's Eye like you thought it would."

"No," she agreed, "it was worst."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a drama queen. You know what, I think I know exactly what you need. A nice relaxing and fun day out, somewhere to take your mind off things. It's best you take it easy anyways while you recover. How does October 1, 1971 sound?" Without waiting for a response, he started punching buttons and spinning a white disk backward. The TARDIS hummed, jerked, and wheezed, indicating she was traveling.

Her grip on her arm relaxed somewhat, now that the choice had been taken out of her hands. "What happens on October 1, 1971?"

The Doctor smirked. "Walt Disney World's opening day."

Her eyebrows raised, her mouth curving into an incredulous smile. "You're taking me to Walt Disney World?"

"We're already here," he said, gesturing to the doors with a grand sweeping gesture. "Why don't you go and take a look?"

She smiled against her will, shooting the Doctor a bemused look over her shoulder, as she walked over to the TARDIS doors. She peeked her head through the door, expecting to see children running around, cotton candy, Disney branded balloons, maybe some unfortunate soul walking around in a Mickey Mouse costume in blistering Florida heat, and instead saw a very different kind of setting. "Um, Doctor," she said, pulling her head back in. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"Of course I am," he said, striding over to her with swift steps. "My driving skills are impeccable..." His voice trailed off as he came face to face with a supremely irritated blue alien man, standing right outside the TARDIS with his arms crossed over an obnoxious gold suit. "Er, hello."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always please favorite, follow, and review. I look forward to your reviews. They are the light at the end of a dark tunnel for me.
> 
> I have no fun, weird question this chapter. I just don't have the energy or brain space to think of one. I hope everyone is staying safe and doing well.


	8. Unexpected Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was my birthday recently, and my husband asked me what I wanted for my birthday. Having been stalled in writing my fanfic, because Doctor Who is no longer on Amazon Prime and I couldn't reference the episodes I needed for the story, I knew exactly what I wanted...
> 
> "Can I get Doctor Who Season 1, so I can write my fanfic?"
> 
> He gaped at me in disbelief, then bowed his head into his hands.
> 
> "What?" I asked, bewildered by his reaction.
> 
> "Seriously," he said. "That's the thing you want for your birthday. To buy something. Not for the show itself, but so you can write your fanfiction."
> 
> Well, when he puts it like that...
> 
> "Yep!"
> 
> Now without further ado, please read and enjoy the reason for my husband's incredulity.

Zoe's eyes widened in recognition at seeing the man's outlandish thin rugby cap — there was no other way she could think to describe it — and the oval silver gemstone sitting in the middle of his forehead like an open target for a jewel thief. He had black markings on his cheeks and scattered on his neck. They stood out like seamless scars against the man's cerulean skin.

Honestly, his unique appearance made him a hard person to forget, even if it has been a few weeks since she'd seen this _Doctor Who_ episode. This was the host for Earth's Death Day viewing. Somehow they'd arrived at the space shuttle viewing the Earth's destruction in the year 5 apple slash something - she was sure the Doctor would tell her the exact date later. Whatever year it was, she was pretty sure they traveled 5 billion years in the future, a far cry from 1971.

Peering over their blue alien host's shoulder, she could see an ostentatious banquet room had been prepared for the event - tables covered in white linen tablecloth with fancy centerpieces and a buffet table was set up along the farthest wall. Several guests dressed in formal wear were already there, sipping drinks and chatting idly in groups. Or at least she assumed they'd been chatting and drinking at leisure before they arrived. The room had gone utterly still at their sudden appearance, eyes and mouths, in all their alien variety, were openly gaping at them.

Someone coughed in the background, and the sound was amplified in the quiet. It seemed to stir the host into action.

"Who are you?" the man demanded, deep blue eyes shooting unspoken accusations at both the Doctor and Zoe for being unwelcome intruders. "This is a maximum hospitality zone and a private event. I should call for security."

At the mention of security, the Doctor hastily stepped out of the TARDIS, pulling Zoe with him, and closed the doors firmly behind him. After securing his ship, the Doctor plastered a confident grin on his face and spun on his heel to face their new acquaintance. "Why hello there, sorry we're late. Got the times mixed up, silly us." He dipped his hand into his leather jacket and pulled out his psychic paper to show off. "We're guests. Look I've got an invitation." The host stared intently at what Zoe could see was blank paper. "Look see, it's fine. The Doctor plus one. I'm the Doctor and this is Zoe Peyton. She's my plus one, is that alright?"

"Well, obviously," he said irritably. "I would apologize, but you are quite late, and ships are meant to be docked in the shipping bay. Teleportation is strictly forbidden on this platform."

The Doctor pretended to look contrite, and Zoe followed his lead, offering a guilty grimace. "We had no idea," she said.

"We didn't mean to land here, here," the Doctor followed up. "Our ship's target destination landing module hasn't been working quite right. It must have malfunctioned mid-landing. We were supposed to land in the shipping bay."

"We're sorry for any inconvenience," Zoe added hastily.

"Well, if it couldn't be helped," the host said, looking somewhat mollified. "But you'll need to take your ship elsewhere. It cannot stay here."

"Not a problem. I'll take care of it," the Doctor said to the host who nodded once before walking away, clapping his hands to get some of his smaller workers' attention, decked out in black bodysuits and helmets. They scurried around him and zipped off in the directions he pointed. Once the host was gone, he turned to address Zoe, all humor absent from his expression. "You and I are going to have a serious talk when I get back."

She scrunched her brows together. It almost sounded like he thought this was her fault. "About what?"

"You know exactly what," he said, but she didn't know. "I know I set the destination for October 1, 1971. Either the TARDIS intercepted my directions, or -"

"Or we needed to be here," she said.

The Doctor's eyes narrowed at her smug tone. "Maybe," he allowed, but he didn't sound like he believed it. "There's another more likely possibility."

"And that would be?"

"Later," he said, ducking back into the TARDIS only to pop his head back out to give her a stern look. "Now I know you think you know what's going to happen, but don't assume. Have fun, but be careful. I'll be back in a jiffy." With that, he shut the blue police doors in her face, and a couple wheezing-whooshes later, the TARDIS had disappeared from the platform, giving Zoe and a few other nearby guests a car-windows-down-hair-blown look.

With the TARDIS gone and their presence approved by the host, it was as if the volume had been cranked up, as chatter among the guests resumed. Most people went on as if nothing happened, though some curious glances were thrown her way. She hardly noticed, her gaze turned inward, unsure what to make of the Doctor's stern response.

She glanced to the left and was drawn short by the sight of the Earth looming outside the observation window. She wandered over to the glass and pressed her hands against it.

Had the Earth always shined so brightly? Even with the sun bearing down on the planet, sun flares lighting up the sky in giant bursts of flame, the Earth stood out brighter than the full moon ever had on a starry night back home. Maybe it was her knowledge this was the last day the Earth would turn on its axle that affected the way she saw it. Either way she thought the Earth looked tragically beautiful wrapped up in stars and darkness. A reflection she would have expected more from her dark and cynical detective, Amelia Tate, the FBI heroine of her murder mystery story. A novel-in-progress she'd been obsessively writing up until her introduction to _Doctor Who_.

At thinking about her creative writing for the first time since she woke up in Rose's bed, she dropped her head into her hands and groaned. All her story ideas, half-concocted plots, and ugly first drafts, gone just like that. If she never made it back home, she'd have to start writing everything from scratch.

_Great. Just perfect._

A finger tapping her shoulder startled her from her melancholy, and she jumped at the unexpected touch.

"Oh, I'm sorry," a woman's pleasant voice said behind her. "I didn't mean to scare you. I only wanted to introduce myself."

Zoe turned and took in a surprised breath. Standing in front of her, and very much alive, was Jabe, the brave woman who had died assisting the Doctor in the show. And she would stay alive if Zoe had any say about it.

Jabe looked very pretty wearing a gold-crimson dress and a jewel encrusted upturned collar. It complimented her coffee skin and honey brown eyes. As one of the Forest of Cheem, she had the appearance of a tree, where hair would have been on a human, tree bark jutted up in elegant up-do with red star-shaped flowers growing at the top like a crown. It should have looked strange, but appeared natural and looked rather pretty.

"I couldn't help, but notice you and the gentleman you were with. My name is Jabe. May I ask your name?"

"Oh, Zoe," she said, reaching out to shake her hand, but let it fall back to her side when Jabe only studied it, seeming unsure what to do with such a gesture.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Oh-zoe."

"Oh, no," Zoe said, waving her hands back and forth. "My name's Zoe, just Zoe."

"I see," she said with polite interest, "and who was the gentleman you were with? What kind of ship was that? It looked like nothing I'd ever seen before."

Zoe remembered then how much interest Jabe had, had in the Doctor in the TV show. She hesitated, unsure how much she should say. "He's called the Doctor and that was his ship. He can tell you all about it himself when he gets back."

"Oh, I'll be sure to say hello to him then," she said, looking a little disappointed at how little she'd been told. "Well, just a moment. I'd like to give you one of our peace offerings." She looked over her shoulder and caught the attention of two other Forest of Cheem's attention. "My brothers," Jabe said as an offer of explanation. They were standing over to the side, listening patiently to a pudgy dark blue alien with a huge bulbous sized head, beady eyes, and stubs for legs. One of them was holding a tray with potted baby saplings, and Zoe realized they couldn't be that late, no matter what the host had said, if everyone was still exchanging peace offerings.

Seeing Jabe waving them over, the two Forest of Cheem made their excuses and handed over one of the potted saplings to the pudgy blue alien. Sitting the sapling on his lap, he was quick to return the brothers' peace offering with one of his own. He spat in both their faces. With a lazy grin, he rolled away on his motorized golden seat — Zoe thought it looked like a miniature throne on wheels — to no doubt to exchange gifts of peace.

"Who was that Lute?" Jabe said, addressing the taller of the two men. Unlike Jabe, Lute and his brother's face had the texture of bark, though it was even more pronounced in the other man with his pointed nose. It reminded Zoe strongly of Pinocchio.

"Mox of Balhoon," Lute said, wiping the spit from his face with the back of hand with a grimace. His voice was deep and rough and sounded exactly like what Zoe thought a tree would sound like on Earth if it could talk.

Jabe nodded and took a sapling from the tray. "This is Zoe from..." she trailed off, realizing she never asked where Zoe came from.

"Another Earth," she said, feeling that wasn't too far from the truth. The Earth outside the window was no longer the same one she knew.

"Another Earth," Jabe said. "How interesting. They're always recreating Earths. First New, New Earth, now Another Earth. We ought to make a point to visit one to see what the fuss is about."

"I quite like it there," she said. "I've never really been anywhere else though, so I'm not sure if that says much."

"First time leaving home?" Jabe asked.

"Something like that."

Jabe nodded, seeming to sense she wouldn't get any more information than that and offered the sapling. "Here, our gift of peace. I give you a cutting of my grandfather."

"Oh, how lovely. Thank you," she said, and wracked her brain for what to give her, then remembered what the Doctor had done in the show. "Um, I give you the breath from my lungs."

She leaned forward and exhaled in Jabe's face, blushing as she did so. She hoped her breath smelled okay. It's not like she got to brush her teeth after coming out of stasis.

Jabe understandably looked taken aback, but to Zoe's surprise, regained her composure fast and gave Zoe an appraising look from head to toe. Zoe had the odd feeling of being checked out. "How intimate," Jabe said, her smile almost flirtatious.

Zoe shuffled on her feet, feeling heat blossom in her cheeks. Out of all the ways Jabe could have reacted, this was not what she'd expected. Wasn't she supposed to be into the Doctor? "I apologize if it was too forward."

"Not at all," Jabe said, giving her one last long look that seemed to invite future acts of forwardness before leaving with her brothers who both gave her curious looks.

Zoe rubbed her burning cheeks and hurried over to the refreshments table with the potted plant tucked awkwardly under her arm. She didn't know what kind of drinks were being offered, but something cool and refreshing sounded really nice right then. She zipped by the other guests and spotted Cassandra in the furthest corner, a stretched span of pale skin and lipstick, looking very much like a human trampoline, as her helpers continuously moisturized her. She couldn't make out what she was saying, but her girlish-waspish voice carried over the din.

Hovering along the opposite wall, appearing weightless and forbidding in their velvet black cloaks were the Adherents of the Repeated Meme. She slowed her pace somewhat to study them, wondering if they had handed out their "gifts of peace" yet. She searched the room and sure enough she spotted the silver balls in the other guests' hands, harmless in appearance, but hiding deadly spider-bots within. At least that was the case in the show.

She frowned, remembering the Doctor's warning not to assume things would be the same. Though she couldn't fully trust her memory, she was pretty sure there hadn't been such a formal setting as this.

The fine dining and alcohol were definitely new. She stared down at the silver punch bowl, brimming with smoking green liquid that smelled like granny apples and spirits. Next to it were crystal glasses that scattered rainbows onto the white tablecloth. The glasses were prisms, she realized, breaking down the light into colors their eyes could perceive.

People were now making their way to and from the buffet table with their plates loaded up. The scent of roasted turkey and mashed potatoes filled her nostrils, and her stomach growled, a loud, obnoxious sound that drew a couple's attention nearby. She was startled to realize she was starving and wondered how she hadn't noticed that fact sooner. She'd been in stasis for an entire week after all.

She switched her attention from the suspicious green liquid to the buffet of Earth comfort foods. She set down the potted tree sapling on a nearby table, so she could grab a crystal plate. Unsurprisingly, it also broke down light into swirling colors on the floor. She then snatched up a funny looking silver spork that had tiny buttons trailing down its handle. She pressed a button experimentally, and the spork morphed into a deep spoon, ideal for eating soup. Cool.

Squeaking, rolling wheels just behind her had her turn halfway to see Cassandra. Close up, she could see how wound tight and stretched thin her skin was fitted to a rectangular frame. The transparent sheen of her skin, allowed veins to stand out, branching out like delicate, pulsing tattoos. Though that wasn't what caught her eye. It was the very, very light scarring — it was so minimal and slight, no one would know it was there if weren't for the way her skin tone shifted and seemed to…change color?

Long stretches of skin were ivory while others were beige or porcelain. The tones were close enough to each other it wasn't _that_ noticeable. But once you saw it, you couldn't unsee it either. She could see where the different skin tones blended into each other like an artist smudged the edges.

 _Here we go again_ , Zoe thought. _Another thing different from the show._ Only this change made a lot of sense. At least it did to Zoe. If Cassandra was always getting plastic surgery, wouldn't she need skin transplants eventually? Though she supposed that led to some awkward question like where she was getting skin donors.

Before she could wander down that rabbit hole, Cassandra's two minions joined her side, drawing Zoe's attention. They were wearing white bodysuits, shaded ski goggles and looked more ready to handle chemical waste than spray lotion - _Water? What did they spray on her, anyways?_ \- on her skin.

Zoe raised an eyebrow and considered the food in front on the buffet table. Could Cassandra even eat food? She may have a mouth, but she lacked an entire digestive system. And now that her mind was on that train of thought, she pondered how Cassandra can think without a brain...or how she can have blood to bleach when she doesn't even have a heart to pump blood through the veins...

How was she even functioning?

"You, girl. You made quite the dramatic entrance arriving like you did. What's your name?"

Zoe suppressed a grimace and barely contained an eye roll at the skin-on-wheels' envious tone. "It wasn't on purpose, if that's what you're thinking. My name is Zoe, but I already know who you are. _Cassandra_."

"I see my reputation precedes me," she said, painted scarlet lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk. "I am the last pure human after all. I was born down there, you know," her eyes flicked to the observation window where the Earth could be seen, as if there could be any doubt what she had meant by _down there_ , "I was a little boy then, living in a house my Mommy and Daddy built in - "

"Los Angeles, right. I remember," Zoe interrupted, not wanting to listen to her life history. She remembered that odd bit at least. She really didn't want to listen to her jabber on about how many operations she had to look like a piece of stretched skin.

Zoe made a show of loading up her plate with mashed potatoes and realized most of the food laid out for the event were traditional items you'd find on a Thanksgiving table spread on Earth. She spotted stuffing, glazed ham, along with the turkey she'd smelled earlier, though everything was mislabeled. The nameplate underneath the ham labeled it as chicken and the mashed potatoes were called scrambled eggs.

"Have you been looking into me?" Cassandra asked, forcing Zoe to look up at her. The last humans' dark blue eyes were narrowed into suspicious slits and were regarding Zoe as if she were a dangerous nemesis. They also looked her up and down in a calculating way that Zoe couldn't quite interpret. If she didn't know any better, she'd think Cassandra liked what she saw. Which was too weird and strange to be anything but a trick of her imagination, so she simply disregarded it.

"Don't be absurd," Zoe said with a roll of her eyes. "Your reputation precedes you, remember?" She didn't bother to suppress her biting sarcasm, but then she paused, recognizing an opportunity to test how much of this reality matched what she remembered. She bought herself a little time to mull it over, as she served herself up a piece of pumpkin pie mislabeled as orange jello.

"Actually Cassandra, you're right," she said before amending with a slight shrug, "in a way." She looked over to see Cassandra trembling, her stretched skin vibrating with barely contained tension. It was doubtless one of the strangest sights she'd ever seen, if not slightly off-putting. She looked away quickly less she lose her recently regained appetite. "I know what you're up to Cassandra. I know the Adherents are your puppets, and their gifts of peace are anything but peaceful."

Cassandra glanced left then right, seeming to make sure no one was listening in. "How dare you insinuate...Boys, moisturize me, moisturize me!" At her agitated, shrill command, 'her boys' rushed to mist her skin, and Zoe covered her food with her hand to keep whatever that foul smelling liquid was from making contact with it. Thankfully, the mist never reached her.

The act of being moisturized seemed to have calmed her somewhat. Her voice was more controlled when she continued. "You're going to need to be more specific. What exactly do you think I'm up to?"

Zoe allowed herself a small smirk, deciding Cassandra's plans couldn't be too different from what happened on the show or she wouldn't have had such a strong reaction when she mentioned the Adherents and their gifts of peace. "Wouldn't you like to know? If you don't mind, I'm really hungry and would like to eat now."

Cassandra pursed her lips, eyes skating over her full plate with obvious disdain. "Are you sure you want to eat all that? You could do with losing some weight. You have a bit of chin poking out there."

"I rather like my chin. It gives me character," Zoe said, walking away before Cassandra could get another word in.

She hurried to the first empty table she could see and set her stacked plate down on the table a little harder than she meant to. She plopped herself into the silver folding chair and forced herself not to sag. The confrontation with Cassandra had sapped her energy reserves more than she would like to admit. Her stomach gave another loud grumble, making its complaints known. She dutifully picked up the strange utensil, still on the soup spoon setting, and used it to scoop up a generous amount of mashed potatoes.

Right as she was about to shove the delicious combination of starch and butter in her mouth, a hand clasped over hers, halting the loaded spoon before it could pass her lips. "Woah there, girlie. Trust me when I say you do not want to eat that."

A snarky retort rose up in her throat that she did in fact want to eat that, but the words died in her throat at the unexpected sight of an extremely handsome Captain Jack Harkness smirking down at her. His dark brown hair had a just-rolled-out-of-bed look, roguishly stuck-up in all the right places. He wore a crisp navy blue button up underneath an ankle-length smoky gray RAF greatcoat, complete with brass buttons. And to top it off, his clear blue eyes were twinkling mischievously at her.

"Jack? What are you doing here?" Zoe asked. She was so alarmed at his presence, she didn't even realize she wasn't supposed to know who he was yet. She was too startled at the thought he could run into the future version of himself, the Face of Boe, who she knew was supposed to be here on the shuttle. "Should you even be here right now?" She searched the room for his future counterpart and was deeply unsettled when she realized the Face of Boe was nowhere to be found on the observation deck. Though she was confused at seeing two Adherents of the Repeated Meme swiftly backing away, seeming to turn around at the last second, as if their desired path had been thwarted.

Jack leaned forward then, effectively regaining her attention and making her forget all about Cassandra's lackeys, and propped up his chin on his hand to gaze at her. "Oh Zoe, the things you say to me." He plucked the spoon from her hand and pointed it at her like an accusing finger. "And I knew you had met me before I met you!" Then he dropped the spoon onto the table, uncaring that the mashed potatoes splattered on the otherwise pristine white tablecloth.

"You were always so mysterious and secretive, Zoe. I wonder if that's why I like you so much. Well, I'm determined to get to the bottom of you, figuratively and literally." He winked and gave her a suggestive smile.

When the meaning of his words sunk in, she was sporting a blush as bright as the sun flares outside the observation deck windows. This was somehow so much worse than Jabe's coy smile earlier. "Jack!"

"You know you love me, or you will anyway." Jack's eyes flickered down to her shirt, lingering on the word CLEVER. It happened to be sitting right over her breasts. "I know I'm loving the shirt."

By this point, Zoe's eyebrows had risen so high on her forehead, they were in danger of disappearing beneath her hairline. She decided a change of subject was needed, and it was needed five minutes ago. She pointed at what would have been her meal. "Why can't I eat this?"

Jack gave her an incredulous look. "Didn't the fact they don't know the difference between a vacuum and a television give you a clue?" He gestured to the Earth artifacts on display around the room. "What makes you think they even know what Earth food is supposed to taste like? No, trust me. Eating that would be akin to eating arsenic." As if to punctuate his statement, a neighboring alien guest seated at the table across from them started to choke on a bite of pumpkin pie, gagging on it and making disgusted faces. "See what I mean?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Ah, getting right down to business, I see," Jack said. "I wanted to see you, and I knew you would be here. You'd told me all about your misadventure here."

Zoe sat straight in her chair, pushing her plate aside regretfully and ignoring her empty stomach. She'd just have to eat later on the TARDIS. "So you know what's going to happen?"

"Yes and no," Jack said.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I know what I've done, need to do to avoid a paradox," Jack said, "but there's still room for…improvisation." He waggled his eyebrows at her playfully at this. "Meaning I can still do what I want, when I want. And I know one thing I'm going to do right here, right now." Before she could ask what he meant by that, he leaned forward and kissed her right on the mouth. His lips felt warm against hers. The kiss was little more than a chaste peck and was over faster than she would have liked, not that she'd ever admit that to herself.

She covered her mouth, fingers lingering over her tingling lips. Her hazel green eyes wide with astonishment. "You...you just stole my first kiss!"

A fact she kept close to her chest over the years. Dating hadn't exactly been a priority. None of the boys she had bothered to go on a few dates with could ever keep her interest. Definitely none of them kiss-worthy. They were just so plain and ordinary. They had no ambition, no sense of adventure. All they wanted in life was to go to good college, get a good job and retire at 65 with a sizable monthly social security check. Just the thought of settling into that sort of life made her squeamish.

Jack winked at her teasingly, but his eyes had a knowing gleam. He knew she'd never been kissed before! "My, my, so innocent, Zoe. Your first kiss you say. Would you like another?"

Jack starts to lean toward her again, and Zoe froze in her seat, torn between moving out of the way and letting the kiss happen. His lips were an inch from hers when a hand came out of nowhere, shoving Jack's face back away from hers. "Oi! Watch where you aim those lips. Who knows where they've been."

"Ah, Doctor. I wondered where'd you gone," Jack said, smiling easily up at the aggravated Time Lord, though there was a hard glint to his eyes Zoe didn't expect to see there. "I was just chatting with the lovely Zoe here."

"That didn't look like talking to me," the Doctor said with narrowed eyes. He had positioned himself between Zoe and Jack, so she had to peer around his back to see the Captain.

"What can I say? Zoe has irresistible charm," Jack said and winked at Zoe again. She rolled her eyes, but a silly smile broke through onto her face. She found his charm difficult to resist. Seeing her reaction, Jack grinned, looking a little too pleased with himself. He tilted his head, looking at the Doctor and added, that unforgiving gleam she'd noticed earlier returning to his eyes, "I know you've noticed."

The Doctor tensed, his shoulders drawing back into rigid planes, as he stared Jack down. Whether he was reacting to the challenge in Jack's voice or the implication in his words, Zoe couldn't be sure. "I don't know who you are," he said with false calm, "but I think its high-time you went back to wherever it is you came from. Go on now, off with you!" He made a shooing motion with his hands.

"Doctor, wait," Zoe said, hurrying to her feet. "This is Captain Jack Harkness. He knows us both from the future, and he's my..." she hesitated, Jack's forward behavior and kiss confusing her on what exactly their relationship was in the future. "My friend," she decided aloud, "Yours, too, if you give him a chance."

The Doctor swiveled to face her then, incredulous fury on his face. "Friend? I didn't realize friends kiss each other. Should I be disappointed I haven't been greeted with a kiss then?"

"I'd sooner kiss a Slitheen," Jack said, sparing Zoe from having to respond, "but that's me now. My younger self though, when he meets you for the first time, he might be open to a kiss if you ask him."

"I don't believe this," the Doctor said, rubbing a hand down his face and giving Zoe an indecipherable look. Again she had the strongest impression he was holding her responsible for this new development. "He's a time traveler, too?"

"He's right here," Jack said irritation grating his voice. "And yes, I'm a time traveler. I have this bad boy right here." He pointed at his wrist where the vortex manipulator rested.

The Doctor threw his hands up in the air. "Of course, he's a time traveler! And he's rather pretty. Is that how you like them?"

Now Zoe was just confused and glanced at Jack, who didn't seem at all surprised by the Doctor's behavior. Without knowing she was doing it, she placed her hands on her hips and glared at the Time Lord. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"I'll tell you what it means," Jack said before the Doctor could answer, a wry smile on his chiseled face that didn't reach his eyes. "He thinks you created me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duh, duh, duh! Until next time on Zoe, Not a Rose...Thanks for reading, and as always, please review! I read all your reviews and appreciate them immensely.
> 
> By the by, you may be interested to know that Jack Harkness' appearance in this chapter blindsided me. (As did the kiss!) This chapter was a struggle to write until he arrived. Then it seemed to write itself after that. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> And Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate the holiday (I do). Stay safe and have fun!
> 
> Just as an FYI, I've decided to discontinue asking questions at the end. I've gotten mixed responses to them, so I'm just going to nix them until further notice.


	9. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, I would like to apologize for the long wait. This chapter has been an absolute beast to write, in length and difficulty level. I was hitting 6,500+ words and wasn't nearly done, so I decided to cut what I'd written so far in half. I wanted to give you an update sooner than later.
> 
> To those who have reviewed, thank you so much. Your kind words motivate me to work on this story. So without further ado, please read and enjoy!

At Jack's words, everything seemed to slow to a crawl. The chatter in the room was muted and her brain felt like all the gears in her head had ground to a halt, because surely she misheard what he'd said. There was no way he could have meant that literally, right?

When she finally spoke, her words sounded almost mechanical, the way she had to force them out. "He thinks I…created you?" she asked, staring blankly at him.

The Doctor looked sharply at Jack, cutting off his reply. "Not another word."

"Not a chance, Doc," Jack said. "She deserves to know the truth. In fact, she needs to know her true nature for the future to be secure. Peek into the time stream if you have to, but this conversation has to happen."

"My true nature? What is he talking about?" Zoe asked, searching the Doctor's face, as if she could find the truth in his closed-off expression.

"This isn't the time or place for this conversation," the Doctor said evasively, darting his eyes around the observation deck and the other guests chatting nearby.

Her eyes narrowed at the obvious avoidance tactic.

Jack threw a meaningful glare of his own at the Doctor. "It's a good time as any. From what future-Zoe told me, I'd say we have at least another 30 minutes before we need to save the day." Jack kicked out a chair, angling it toward the Doctor. "Might as well take a seat and give her something to wrap her beautiful brain around."

The Doctor shook his head, giving Jack his best 'oncoming storm' stare. "Not here. If we must have this conversation, let's move somewhere unwanted ears cannot hear us." He jerked his head back, sending a significant glance over his shoulder.

And sure enough, a few feet away standing amongst her brothers was Jabe, sneaking curious looks over at them and tilting her head as if to hear them better. She was holding a twittering device in her hands — Zoe only half-registered it was that tech gadget Jabe used to identify the Doctor's race in the show — because hovering only a few feet away with her boys was Cassandra. Her sapphire eyes glaring holes into Zoe's head. Her ruby red lips were pinched together as if she'd swallowed down something bitter. Maybe she tried the Earth inspired food?

Jack took notice of Cassandra immediately. He seemed to recognize her, judging by the way his eyes simultaneously widened and hardened at the sight of her. "You're right. As much as I love giving a good show, this isn't a conversation I want Miss Bitchy Human Trampoline to hear." He started to walk away, sweeping a hand out in a 'follow me' gesture as he went, before saying, "I'd scoped this floor out earlier, so I know just the place we can talk without being overheard."

The Doctor looked over at Zoe with weary resignation, but Zoe merely shrugged at the Time Lord's obvious dislike for the time-traveling Captain before following after him. The Doctor grimaced, but was quick to catch up with her.

Within a few minutes, they found themselves sequestered away in a private gallery with an observation window. Before Jack or Zoe could say anything, the Doctor wandered over to the window and leaned against the glass to stare down at the dying Earth.

Several swift flares of light burst like over-the-top fireworks just outside, but they couldn't hold Zoe's attention this time. Not when she was bursting herself with questions that needed answers, but it seemed the Doctor was in no hurry to restart their conversation, a heavy shadow passing over her face. She felt a sense of foreboding at his expression. What could he have to say that made him look so sad? Burdened even?

Zoe nibbled her bottom lip, glancing at Jack who was watching the Doctor with a blank expression. Upon catching her looking at him, he sent her a thin smile. "Go on. Ask him. You have the right to know."

Nervously, she cleared her throat. "Doctor?"

The Doctor grunted, but didn't stop looking out the window.

Huffing in mild irritation, she tapped the Time Lord's shoulder, forcing him to turn to look at her. "What did Jack mean? Why would you think I created him?"

When he finally faced her head-on, she didn't like the look on his face. He was wearing an expression she'd only seen him wear for people he knew were going to die and just didn't know it yet. It had her straightening her spine, bracing herself for bad news. Because what else could it be, with the way he was looking at her?

The Doctor seemed to his consider his words carefully before tossing his head in Jack's direction. "Tell me, Zoe, is he from your telle show?"

She hesitated, unsure where he was going with this and nodded once. The derision in his voice when he said the words telle show had never been clearer than ever. Jack wasn't looking at her like she was crazy, so she supposed she told him all about it in the future. "You and Rose would have met him during the London Blitz if she'd been here."

"Isn't it a little convenient that he shows up now?" the Doctor asked, jerking his head in Jack's direction. His stormy eyes were gazing in hers so intently, he seemed to be willing her to figure it out on her own. All so he wouldn't have to tell her himself. She opened and closed her mouth, brain working furiously to understand, but kept coming up empty. She just didn't have enough information to work with.

Jack held up a hand. "Doc, I'm going to stop you right there. I know you'd like it if I was figment of her imagination come true," he paused, a sly grin appearing on his face, "or maybe you wouldn't." He let the words gain weight before saying, "But I can assure you, I'm very real. There are several extremely satisfied individuals that can attest to my existence up until I met Zoe in my timeline. I chose to come here."

The Doctor broke his staring match with Zoe to glare at Jack. "Even if that's true, how do you know Zoe didn't subconsciously manipulate your thoughts to make you think you wanted to be here?"

Jack snorted and leaned against the wall, arms crossed in a patronizing manner. "You're reaching. We both know her abilities can't alter someone's free will."

"What do you know?" the Doctor asked Jack. "You're just a walking, talking paradox with a pretty face!"

"Well, I'd rather be a good-looking paradox than an arrogant, two-faced Time Lord with more ego than brains."

Before the Doctor could snap a stinging retort at Jack, Zoe launched herself between the two men, throwing her hands out — her patience with them both running out. "Would you two SHUT UP! You're both acting like colossal idiots with egos the size of a giant planet."

Both Jack and the Doctor froze and stared at her, shocked into silence. For some reason, their expressions sat bitter on her tongue. Why exactly was losing her temper so shocking to them?

Yeah, okay. Maybe she has a seemingly endless reservoir of patience on a good day — something Mads always has running commentary on — but even she has her off-days. Like today for instance.

For one, she was freaking starving, and her growling stomach wouldn't let her forget this fact anytime soon. To top it off, she was starting to feel the beginning of a headache, no doubt a result of low blood sugar levels. She didn't need the Doctor and Captain's back-and-forth zingers making it worst.

If only, she hadn't been kept from eating that food earlier, even if it was a poor alien imitation, her capacity for patience and handling difficult situations wouldn't be near non-existent at this moment. (Those mashed potatoes had smelled real enough to her, Jack!)

And that's not even taking into account all the mind-numbing bomb drops she'd dealt with since learning she lost a week of her life to stasis. From the Doctor revealing her involvement in this world is part of the original timeline to Jabe flirting with her, Jack kissing her, and his less-than-subtle mic drop. He thinks you created me. Because what the hell does that even mean?

Zoe knew the Doctor was keeping something from her. He admitted as much to her earlier this morning, but she's only just now realizing how big that secret must be.

She knows from watching the show and reading up on Doctor Who trivia that the Doctor often keeps the truth hidden up his sleeve. How many times has the Time Lord kept life-altering, or even lifesaving, facts from his companions, because he thought it was safer they didn't know? How often has that choice to withhold information put himself and his companions in danger? Sometimes at the cost of his own life or that of his companion's?

Yeah, okay, so she feels justified to a little anger right now. Sue her.

"I don't know what's crawled up your asses," she said in a low dangerous voice, "but I'm tired of you both talking about me like I'm not standing RIGHT HERE." Her voice raised with each word until the last two words were shouted. "You both know something about me, and I want to know what it is."

Looking appropriately chastised, Jack raised his hand, reminding Zoe strongly of a kindergartner asking for permission to speak. She lifted an unamused eyebrow at him, and he seemed to take it as the go-ahead he needed. "If my ego's the size of a planet," Jack began, "then the Doc's ego must be the size of the multiverse."

"Oh, grow up," the Doctor said with a scoff at the same time Zoe's let out an irritated, "Really, Jack?"

"Can't," Jack said a tad smugly to the Doctor. "It's physically impossible. What you see is what you get." He spun on the heels of his combat boots, arms extended out like a model turning on a catwalk. "Isn't that right, Zoe?" He threw a wink at her, causing Zoe to roll her eyes and the Doctor to scowl. Mere seconds later though, it turned into a grimace.

The Time Lord groaned and looked at Zoe as if she would be the death of him. "Why do I have the feeling you're the reason he's a fixed point in time? His presence alone is giving me the heebie-jeebies!"

Zoe's eyes widened, then narrowed in an instant. "You think I'm the reason he's immortal?"

"Unfortunately, the Doc's hit the nail right on the head. This one is on you, well, future you," Jack said almost apologetically, "but it's not what he thinks." He jerks his head in the direction of the Time Lord, then tilts his head to the side as if considering his words carefully. "My...immortality was created under very different circumstances. The only thing you did - you as in your powers- was make it so I can't age. Ever. Can't give anything more away without risking the timeline."

"Powers," Zoe deadpanned, as the ramifications of what Jack said hit her straight on. If he can't age because of her, then he would never turn into the Face of Boe, a huge, wrinkled age-defying head. Suddenly, the Face of Boe's absence on board the ship made a terrible sort of sense. She shook her head forcefully, willing this information to the back of her mind. What's done is done, even if it hadn't technically happened yet, and she had more burning questions to ask then what would happen in the future with Jack.

She turned her dark hazel-green eyes on the Doctor. "What powers is he talking about? And why do I feel like you think everything is my fault?" Channeling her best friend's sass (if only Mads could see her, she'd be so proud), she deadpanned, "Let me guess. I'm the reason for the Earth's death today, too."

The Doctor looked disturbed by the very idea. "Of course not! The Earth's death today will no more be your fault than the Sun's. It just is. It's a fixed-point in time."

"Yeah. Well, you haven't always thought so generously of me, have you?" At his raised eyebrow, she started listing her reasons off her fingers. "Let's see, just now you seemed to think I caused Jack's immortality. In fact, you were convinced I created him." Her tone showed exactly how ludicrous she thought this idea was. "When we arrived here, you seemed to think I brought us here and not your terrible driving skills." She had to hold up her hand to stop the protest ready to roll off his tongue at her reference to his ability to drive the TARDIS - and then barreled on, pressing her advantage. "And let's not forget, your cryptic commentary on the Autons and Nestene Consciousness. What were your words when I asked if what happened was normal?" She pretended to think about it by tapping her chin. "Oh, yes. How could I forget?

"'They aren't known for shapeshifting, but I suppose they will be from now on.' You were talking about me then, weren't you? You think I changed them - made them something different, something new. That whatever I did changed the Nestene race forever."

As she finished, the Doctor's dark eyes had grown to the size of giant platters, reflecting the solar flares from outside the window. They shone with wonder, burning curiosity and...was that awe?

"Fantastic!" He clapped his hands together in his enthusiasm. "Oh, you are clever."

"I've always thought so," Jack threw in with a smirk.

Zoe paused, face heating in slight embarrassment from the unexpected praise. "What?" she deadpanned.

Wearing a grin so wide it threatened to split his face, the Doctor grabbed her hands in his. Neither noticed how Jack's gaze narrowed at where their hands connected. "Don't you see? You've known all along, at the back of your mind you've been collecting clues. Somewhere rattling around that skull of yours is the truth." He tapped the side of her head for emphasis. "You've just blinded yourself to it."

Her face fell, looking into the Doctor's grinning face. Was he talking about his belief she wasn't from an alternate universe?

Well, at least he seems to have the answers for why everything has been so different from the show. But, was he really telling her that those difference were because of her? Because she has powers? Powers to do what exactly?

Her fingers found the base of her t-shirt and started twisting and turning the hem, matching the tempo of her anxiety-ridden thoughts. "I don't understand. Are you saying I have powers to alter reality or something crazy like that?"

The Doctor beamed. "Oh, I knew you were brilliant."

She stared back at him in disbelief. "That's impossible. I'm human! I don't have powers. And despite what you want to believe, I'm definitely not psychic. I think I would know something like that."

"About that," the Doctor said, drawing out the syllables before blowing out his breath. He seemed to be bracing himself for something. "Look, this isn't exactly what I had in mind when I told you." At her disbelieving stare, he said a bit exasperated, "I was going to tell you. Just not right away."

He paused, searching her eyes for a moment. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find it, because he sighed. "On the day I met you, I may have scanned you..."

Her eyes snapped up to his at his confession, stunned. "You did what?"

"It's a good thing I did, too, because I learned something really, really, extremely, vitally important and extraordinarily—"

Jack whacked the Doctor's arm just like she did on the day she met him. "Just get on with it."

Sending the immortal a glare and rubbing his arm, the Doctor sighed in defeat. "Zoe, you're not human. Well, mostly not human."

Her head shot back, mouth dropping open. "What?"

The Doctor gripped her hands tightly in his. "You have exactly 13% human DNA. That's it."

Somewhere right above them, oblivious to the tension in the room, the station's computer announced in a soothing, feminine tone, "Earth Death in 25 minutes."

Jack took immediate notice to the broadcast. He glanced up at the ceiling, his brow crumpling in confusion, before glaring at his vortex manipulator and tapping it like a misbehaving wristwatch.

Zoe and the Doctor, on the other hand, showed no sign of hearing the announcement. They seemed to only have eyes and ears for each other.

"But, that's not possible," she said, feeling a sweeping dizzy spell blindside her. Whether it was from the lack of food or the Doctor's reality-shattering revelation, it was too early to tell.

There's no way what he said could be true. Her mom was human. August was human. Weren't they?

And her dad…

Her biological father was…

Wait, she has no idea who her real father is. August never talked about him, and she'd never asked, not wanting August to think he wasn't enough for her. It's just she'd always assumed her father was human. There wasn't any reason to think he might not be until now. Then again, there's never been any reason to think she wasn't human either.

The Doctor took in her deer-in-headlights expression, his mouth twisting in a sympathetic grimace. "I know this is difficult for you. It's why I didn't want to say anything until I knew more."

"If I'm not truly human, then," Zoe paused and looked up at the Doctor beneath dark eyelashes, "what am I?"

Again the Doctor hesitated to answer, and Jack having refocused on the conversation, fake coughed loud and clear behind his hand, 'Tell her!' The gesture earned him a swift glare from the Time Lord. For Zoe's part, her silent, pleading gaze never left the Doctor's face.

Whatever he saw in her expression, his resistance seemed to crumple beneath its weight.

"Fine!" he burst out in one stressed breath. He released her hands to run one of his own through his short, fine hair, clearly agitated at being forced to reveal his hand sooner than he'd planned. Zoe was too focused on the Doctor's every move to notice how she distantly felt the sudden loss of his hands' warmth like a phantom limb.

"Ok, yes!" he said. "The first scan told me you weren't human, not in the way it counts anyways. And yes, it also identified your dominant race." Here he began a manic pace across the floor before twisting around to face her once more. "But you don't understand…"

"Of course she isn't human," Cassandra southern drawl interrupted them. The trio turned as one and saw the last human standing outside the private observation deck's door, her boys standing at her side ready to spray her. "I thought we established I am the last human alive here. Whatever she is, is of no consequence."

Zoe stared blankly at the last human, not quite registering her sudden appearance and what it could mean. The Doctor's words, You're not human, and all its implication were still playing on repeat in her head like a warped echo. Add in her pulsing headache, and it was a wonder she could think at all.

Feeling faint (and not a little bit queasy), she leaned against the observation window, unknowingly mirroring the Doctor earlier. This is just not my day, she thought.

"Wow, Zoe," Jack said, whistling low for effect and bringing her back to the present moment. "Future-you wasn't kidding when you said she looks like a bitchy human trampoline." Seeing as he referred to her this way not even half an hour ago, Zoe could only assume he said it again for Cassandra's benefit. And judging by the suppressed snarl at her lips, the insult had hit its mark.

The Doctor crossed his arms and regarded Cassandra with cool indifference. He glanced over at Zoe. "So I take it this is the Cassandra?"

Zoe's mind flashed back to her conversation with the Doctor right before he tried to take her to Walt Disney World. "Yes, that's her."

He nodded, nice and sharp to confirm he understood and threw on a pleasant smile. Though Zoe thought there was nothing nice about it. "Cassandra, I've heard so much about you," he said, spreading his arms out wide. In any other context, the gesture would have been welcoming.

Cassandra shifted her glare from Jack to the Doctor, sparing Zoe a weighted glance, before fluttering her eyelashes at the Time Lord. "Nothing bad, I hope."

"Well, that depends," the Doctor said, keeping his grin deceivingly friendly. "You see, my friend here believes you're up to no good. Me though, I can be fair. Innocent until proven guilty and all that."

Zoe expected Cassandra to play up the innocence card, so what happened next caught her completely off guard.

The last human smirked, eyes radiating smugness. "Oh, there's no need for that," she said, as metallic clicking sounds started up somewhere behind her. "The truth is I'm such a naughty thing."

Cassandra backed up to reveal three tiny metallic spiders and an Adherent of the Repeated Meme floating in silence behind her. She flicked her eyes at the Repeated Meme first. "Get the girl," she said, the command cold and crisp.

Before the Doctor and Jack could react, before she even realized what was happening, Zoe found herself seized and dragged towards the last human by the imposing cloaked figure. She thought she heard Jack and the Doctor yell her name, but she couldn't quite hear over her pounding heart.

Nausea curled in her stomach the moment her mind caught up with her situation. In one second, she was leaning against the observation window, the next she was beside a smug Cassandra. Worst, she felt too weak and nauseous to do much more than try to tug her arm loose from the Repeated Meme's firm grip holding her hostage.

Unsurprisingly, her meager effort didn't so much as loosen its grip. In fact, the Repeated Meme jerked her backward, so her back hit its chest and it could pull her into a secure headlock. The simultaneous feeling of a metallic arm wrapped around her throat and of wires poking her beneath its robe filled her with unease. It was a strong reminder that the Adherents of the Repeated Meme weren't anything more than an idea. Robots programmed to do Cassandra's bidding. All it would take was a command from Cassandra, and she would be dead.

As if the universe heard her thoughts, it was at that moment she felt the cold graze of a gun at her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duh, duh, duh! So, how did I do? Was it worth the wait? Please review! Your words are my writing fuel.
> 
> Btw, I really didn't want to leave the chapter off here. I've written a lot more than this, some fun stuff that I'm eager to share, but it's not done yet. Sadly.
> 
> As you may have realized, the updates have caught up to where I am in the story, writing-wise. For that reason, updates will be sporadic and there will likely be a longer span of time in between chapters.
> 
> This is a story I am writing for fun and fun only. I don't want to promise regular updates, because I'm afraid it would demotivate me from writing. The last thing I want is for this fic to feel like a chore. I'll try to keep the time between updates reasonable, but I can't guarantee anything. Regardless, I hope you'll stick with me on this adventure.
> 
> Until next time.


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